Hello from Purgatory
by IndigoMoose
Summary: Sock is an affable demon selected by Mephistopheles to drive people to suicide. Jojo is a surly guardian angel who wants to make Sock's afterlife miserable. Fergus is a ghost with questions for Providence. Amelia Kate is a wandering spirit with unique abilities. Sock was welcomed to Hell, but just how far from Heaven is he really?
1. Joane becomes an angel

Joane died in the summer before 4th grade. Where she ended up was floating above the tallest tree in the park.

"What just happened?" she asked aloud. She was startled when she heard an answer.

"What happened is: you died," said a tall, thin man in a mock turtle neck and khaki pants. He was oddly crisp in contrast to the scenery.

Joane's brow furrowed. "I fell out of a tree," she said. "People don't die from falling out of trees."

"Hate to break it to you, kid, but lots of people die from falling out of trees. Look down if you don't believe me."

Joane folded her arms, "So, what happens now?"

The tall man shrugged, "Eh, you're a cute kid. Blonde hair, blue eyes… once they get you fitted in your white gown and halo, you'll be a quintessential cherub."

Joane pursed her lips. The 9-year-old was comfortable in her grey t-shirt, cut-off jeans, and her brother's flannel. Joane turned away and spoke to herself, "It's just a weird dream. Any minute now, I'm going to wake up and Mom is going to say I had one doosey of a concussion. Yeah, that's it. Napoleon is probably running to go get her now."

The tall man shook his head gently. "My name's Fergus. I'm a ghost."

"Just let me wake up," she pleaded.

Fergus sighed. "I can't do that."

"Okay," Joane responded. She jutted her chin forward, "I can play your game. I'll just enjoy this dream while it lasts."

"All right then," the ghost said. "I told you my name, will you tell me yours?"

"Joane. Friends call me Jojo."

"May I call you Jojo?"

The girl shrugged. After a brief pause, she said, "I'm not going to be a cherub."

Fergus smirked. "Why not? You'd rather be a ghost like me?"

"No. I just don't wanna be chubby-cheeked kid with wings for all eternity."

"Being a cherub sounds nice," the tall man countered.

Joane wrinkled her nose. "Please! Screw that Peter-Pan garbage. I'm gonna grow up and have a real job."

* * *

When Fergus was alive, he had a degree in Philosophy and was on his way to law school. All this potential was snuffed out due to a drunken make-out session with a guy who had been noshing on peanut-butter cookies and knew nothing of Fergus's severe allergy.

Accidental deaths always take longer to process, so Fergus had been a disgruntled ghost for months. Yet, he grew to rather like his new state of existence. He especially enjoyed his monthly appointments with Providence.

Fergus ran his hands through his black, shaggy hair. "Will I look the same if I become an angel?"

Providence answered, "No. You could get a halo and wings, if you wanted."

"Yeah, but besides that. Will I still look like a college kid in need of a hair-cut? Will Amelia still look like a frumpy teen? Does Jojo still look 9 years old? Jojo made it into Heaven, right? I haven't seen her in ages."

Providence smirked. "In Heaven, a person is allowed to transition into their ideal self. Some age, some look young again – it all depends on what the individual views as ideal."

"Is it just age? What if my ideal self has a six-pack?"

"Physique may be altered, too."

"What about my race, or gender, or species? What if deep down someone fantasized about being a dolphin?"

Providence laughed. "Most people aren't that creative with their identity. In fact, I know several angels who are still wearing their ghost clothes."

* * *

On graduation day, Joane and her fellow guardian-angels-in-training received their official halos and a personal visit from Providence. Providence was a buxom woman in a dazzlingly white tailored suit. Her hair was short, spikey and cosmic purple. There was a twinkle in her eye and a smile on her lips. "Now all that is left to do is choose someone to protect," Providence said to the sassy adolescent in pig-tails. "Lou in the file room can help you with the process."

Joane tilted her head. "There's paperwork in Heaven?"

"Of course, girl! One man's torture is another man's therapy." Providence took Joane's hand and gave it a friendly shake. "Congratulations on completing your training. Have a splendid time selecting your charge." With that, she released Joane's hand and took a large step to the left.

Joane found herself in a space made of nothing but filing cabinets. A plump woman with sandy brown hair and pink horn-rimmed glasses welcomed her.

"You must be Lou," Joane said.

"I am," the woman responded, straightening her halo and adjusting her glasses.

"Do you have a file for everyone? Like, every-everyone?" Joane asked, gazing at the towering cabinets.

"Living and dead. Just tell me the name and I can find 'em quick as a wink."

With so much information so easily accessed, Joane couldn't resist looking up a certain name. She had not thought of him in years, and he certainly wasn't someone she wanted to protect.

"Napoleon Maxwell Sowachowski," Joane stated clearly.

True to her word, the angelic secretary handed over the file just as Joane finished saying, "The boy who murdered me."

Joane snapped open the file. She grinned as she scanned the pages. However, the grin quickly faded. Napoleon Maxwell was not in jail, he was dead. Yet, he was not being tortured in Hell; he was a demon with a counterpart named Jonathan. She slammed the file closed and returned to the desk.

"Jonathan Combs," Joane said to Lou.

Joane snatched the new file out of Lou's hands. She chuckled when she to found a section titled Romantic Interests. She returned to Lou with one more request, "Magill Nancy."


	2. Graveyard Shift

It was 5:00pm. Sock had worked his required nine to five shift. In fact, he had showed up early, just in case. It went fine, considering. However, now that it was over, he wasn't really sure what to do. He supposed he should return to Hell until the next day, but how would he get there? He'd actually been expecting the ground to just open up and swallow him, or a big ball of flame, or something; yet, here he was at 5:12 and nothing had happened. He'd already looked massively unprofessional to his charge, Jonathan Combs. So he floated up and down the street, trying to decide what to do next. He perked up when he remembered the brochure Mephistopheles had given to him. He fished it out of his back pocket. He opened the first tri-fold to find a mass of text. However, it was written in font too small and too swirly to be legible. He opened the next fold to find in bold letters, "You're on your own, kid!" Sock shoved the brochure into his back pocket again. He thought maybe the way back was the way he came. He just had to remember where and how he died.

He remembered that the moon was full and bright enough to see by. At first, he had considered simply burying his parents in an out of town cemetery, a forensic counter-measure as well as a sign of respect for the man and woman who had raised him. But sometime during the drive in his mother's station wagon, Sock determined that burying his first human victims was not enough. Sock chose a spot under a large tree. There were three simple gravestones already set up, and room to dig shallow graves on the other side. Sock took out the fat permanent marker he had swiped from his father's desk. On the back of the first gravestone he scrawled in large letters DAD. For a moment he chided himself for not writing out his father's full name, but it was too late now, he'd used indelible ink. He wrote MOM on the next stone so at least the tombstones would match. On the third stone, he paused in thought. The names Napoleon and Maxwell were both too long to fit on the stone without some dumb looking hyphen, and Sock would just look silly. Finally, he wrote ME and set to digging. Was the open grave still there with his scrawny body at the bottom? Would he even be able to find the cemetery? He doubted it would be on any road map, assuming he could remember which direction he had driven. However, it was a start. He would find a gas station and use a road map.

Reading road maps requires the ability to open them. Sock discovered opening road maps was very difficult because his fingers kept phasing through. He could stand on the ground and sit on benches, but he couldn't pull the map off the stand, let alone unfold it.

"Just think poltergeist," he said to himself as he struggled to have the slightest effect on the map. Eventually, the whole rack of maps toppled to the floor.

After many more struggles and failures, Sock was in a quiet part of the gas station with a partially unfolded road map. Suddenly he realized, he wasn't even in the same state! He'd need a map of the whole Mid-West, one that included all the little towns. His second map retrieving venture went better than his first. His demon skills were improving, he noted with pride. However, when he finally located his home town and Jonathan's home town on the map, the sun had started to rise. Sock didn't even notice it had gone down. He considered refolding and returning the maps he had used, but rapidly gave up trying. It was nearly 9:00 in the morning.

* * *

Lots of people commute to and from work. Sock told himself that this was no different. There was simply no way he could get from one town to the other any other way. He'd spent two full nights planning this trip. Once he was finally back in Hell, he had a ton of questions for his employer. Sock had been hitchhiking, in a way, from one car to another, getting ever closer to the place of his death. The last mile or so he had to float, since the last car to travel to this graveyard at night was a blue station wagon bearing two dead bodies wrapped in bed sheets.

A crescent moon hung over head as Sock nervously floated over the wrought iron fence. Leaning against the large tree was a thin young man with unkempt black hair.

"I'm guessing you're Me," he said as Sock approached.

Sock nodded mutely.

"No one has found you yet, if that's what you're wondering."

Sock shook his head. "I'm trying to get back to Hell," he explained. "Do you know how?"

"Just who do you think I am?" asked the young man, putting his fists on his slender hips.

Sock whined, "I don't know. I'm new at this. You're a demon, you're here… I just assumed…"

The young man let out a sigh. "I'm a ghost."

"So, I'm guessing you can't help demons return to Hell," Sock said with disappointment.

"Why are you trying to get to Hell?" the ghost asked. "Isn't it supposed to be a horrible place?"

"I… well… I..." Sock struggled for an answer, but was realizing that his efforts to return to Hell were rather foolish. "It's where I belong?" he offered feebly.

The ghost shrugged. "If you insist. Personally, if I were you, and no one was forcing me to be in the pits of endless fire, and no one seemed to notice my absence, I wouldn't go out of my way to be somewhere unpleasant."

Sock hung his head in embarrassment. Now he would have to trudge all the way back with no answers from Mephistopheles.

"I was under the impression that Hell was being rebuilt anyway," said the ghost.

"Um, yeah. I just wasn't sure where else..."

"There's some rather disturbing war zones I could recommend, if that's what you're into."

"No… no. Thanks, though." Sock turned and began to journey back to Jonathan's house. He hoped he could make it to the bus-stop before 8:25.

"The name's Fergus!" The ghost called out as Sock hoped over the gate.

"Sock!" the little demon called back over his shoulder.


	3. Hello, Napoleon

It was Monday when Joane started her new job. She arrived at the high-school invisible to all mortals, including her charge, a senior girl with toffee colored skin and purple hair. The teen wore a pair of purple striped leggings, and an ivory dress. Of course, all but the bottom ruffle of the dress was hidden by the over-sized green jacket she wore almost daily.

The first class of the day, Joane was on the alert. She managed to re-direct a crumpled paper ball, but that was all the danger that presented itself. The second class seemed more promising – honors chemistry! And yet, it was just a note-taking day. Joane groaned aloud and sat atop a locked cabinet, her legs dangling over the side.

A blonde boy in a gray hoodie ducked into the room. "Tardy again, Jonathan?" the teacher asked.

The boy mumbled something inaudible and took a seat in the back. Floating behind the disgruntled teen was a demon.

"Hello, Napoleon," Joane said in a slow taunt.

Sock's eyes grew wide. He hadn't been called by his first name in years. He looked around wildly. He saw a figure crouching atop the chemical cabinet. She had golden hair in short pig tails and wore plaid flannel. "Jojo?" he whispered.

The guardian angel sprang from her perch and pounced on the baffled demon. The two tumbled over and over, phasing through tables and stools and high school students that were oblivious to their presence. Jonathan was the only one aware of the super-natural commotion, but even he could only see his demon, Sock. He watched as Sock thrashed about and eventually fell through the door, disappearing from sight.

In the hall, Joane was straddling Sock, a knee pinning down each arm. She lay blow after blow to his stupid round face, making sure to blacken both of his big green eyes and knock some teeth out of his absurdly wide grin. Finally, she stopped, breathing heavily through a wide mouth with up-turned corners. Sock gave a weak moan. The bell rang, and Joane snickered as the wounded demon seemed to be trampled by the teenagers making their way to class.

Sock stumbled into Jonathan's math class and plopped himself into the empty desk next to his counterpart. "Dude, what happened to you?" Jonathan whispered.

"I'm not really sure," Sock confessed. "I think I just got assaulted by an angel."

* * *

By lunch, Sock's wounds had completely vanished. He happily chatted at Jonathan while the apathetic teen tried to eat his sandwich and drink chocolate milk. Magill Nancy was in the hot-lunch line. Joane ignored her charge's terrible food choices, she was busy scanning the cafeteria. Using her conscience voice, she spoke to Magill.

"You see that guy eating alone? You should go sit with him. You know, he has a crush on you. This could be kinda interesting…"

Magill paid for her meal and glanced about the cafeteria for her friends. The place was sparsely populated, most seniors spent their lunch off-campus. It seemed her usual crowd had forgotten to invite her. Then Magill heard a nagging voice in her head again. "C'mon! It's one lunch period. Change things up a little; sit with the guy. You know you want to."

Jonathan chewed and swallowed, then leaned in to whisper, "Listen, Sock, I have no intention of –"

"May I sit here?" a girl asked.

Jonathan looked up. "Whu? Oh, Nancy, hi. Uh, yes." He sat back.

"Because you seemed to be having a pretty serious conversation…"

"It's nothing. Please, sit." Jonathan tried to maintain eye-contact, but in his peripheral he could see Sock being dragged away by an invisible force. Magill shrugged and sat.

"So, are you..." Jonathan began.

Magill interrupted, "I asked if I could sit, not if I could be interviewed."

"Okay," Jonathan responded. They ate in relative silence.

A few yards away, Joane the angel continued to pull Sock by his scarf. The demon was doubly reeling, first from the shock of seeing a childhood companion all grown up, and second from the morning's pummeling.

"Please, Jojo, I'm begging you, not again," Sock whimpered.

"I'm not going to beat you this time, Napoleon," Joane said. She shoved him hard onto a cafeteria bench.

"What do you want from me?" he asked meekly.

"What I _want_ is for you to die a horrible death."

"I did that. I stabbed myself. I have the spooky hole to prove it." Sock began to lift up his baggy sweater-vest.

Joane banged her fist on the table. "I'm here to lay down some rules."

"Rules?"

"I'm a guardian angel now," Joane stated. "Magill Nancy is under my protection. As a demon, you are a natural threat. So, if you come within 15 feet of her, I'm gonna clobber you."

"But I have no intention of hurting Maggie –"

Joane pounded the table again and leaned in close. "Her name is Magill, her friends call her Lil. Everyone else knows her as Nancy."  
The angel turned on her heals and, in a single graceful leap, landed hovering just behind Magill's shoulder.

* * *

After school detention was not a common place to find Magill Nancy, though most kids at the school would believe otherwise. The social studies assignment was to bring in a family heirloom. It wasn't her fault that her family owned a really cool looking knife. Her punishment would surly have been expulsion had it not been for the teacher showing the principal Magill Nancy's well-written five-paragraph essay about the knife and it's use. After a lengthy phone-conversation with her parents, the school administration decided a week's worth of detention would be reasonable punishment for her transgression.  
Magill glanced over at Jonathan Combs. He was in detention, too; probably for something lame like too many tardys. He was scribbling feverishly on a scrap piece of paper. She wondered what he was writing about. Then she wondered why she wondered.  
It had been a few days since she had first started sitting with him at lunch. Sitting near the stoic blonde boy had satisfied an unusual urge, different from her more typical urges of tasting drain cleaner or diving head-first into the shallow end of the pool. Did this count as a crush? Was this how crushes started? Happy thoughts replacing gloom? Magill chided herself. How cliché could she be, falling for the aloof musician? Maybe it wasn't a crush, but then there was no better explanation for that dream where she was a purple bird soaring peacefully through a sky the same shade of blue as Jonathan's eyes.  
A crash startled Magill from her thoughts. A coffee mug had fallen off the detention monitor's desk. It seemed to have been hit by a crumpled ball of paper. From the way the gray-haired lady reacted, Jonathan would be back in detention the next day. Perhaps tomorrow Magill would dare to say something nice to him.

* * *

Jonathan was slowly accepting the fact that he would probably never eat lunch in solitude again. If that silly demon wasn't around, Magill Nancy was. Additionally, Nancy had friends; friends who called her Lil.

"Hey, Lil, who's your new friend?" asked a plump girl with frizzy hair.

"Rita, this is Jonathan. Jonathan, Rita."

Rita set her lunch tray down and thrust her hand towards Jonathan. He gave it an awkward yet polite shake. As she took a seat on the bench next to Magill, she said, "Zack'll be joining us soon."

"Hey, I know you!" said a red-haired girl seating herself next to Jonathan. "You were new last year. You played the fiddler in Fiddler on the Roof! You were great, by the way. You probably don't remember me, I'm -"

"Judith," Jonathan interrupted. "Yeah. My mom thought the school play would be a good way to make new friends."

"Theater's a great way to make new friends," Judith nodded eagerly.

"Well, you were the only one who talked to me."

"That's because she talks to everybody," said Magill.

A broad-shouldered boy came up to the table. It was Zack. Jonathan knew him from a few of his classes, but he recognized him better from that stupid incident at the urinals.

"Rita, Jude, Lil, Jon," Zack nodded to each teen as if the five of them had been eating lunch together since the 7th grade.

Sock perched on the sill of the high windows in the cafeteria, watching. Every time Jojo the angel glanced up at him, he stuck out his tongue.

"This isn't looking good for you, kid," Mephistopheles said, appearing beside Sock.

"Huh? Oh, nah, it's fine. It's not like this is an every day thing. I mean, Jojo isn't making things easy, but..."

Mephistopheles interrupted, "How did the sullen loner suddenly make four friends?"

"I don't know. They just sat down," Sock squeaked.

"You're aware that feelings of isolation play a key role in a person's decision to take the six foot snooze."

Sock folded his arms. "They're eating lunch together. Pretty soon he's gonna say something stupid or do something weird, and they'll all steer clear of him."

"Oh, you mean like they steered clear of the kid who wore fish-net stockings and inspected roadkill?"

Sock grimaced at the memory and nodded curtly. He returned his attention to Jonathan's new crowd.

"I see you playing flute at the school concerts," Rita was saying. "Why aren't you in marching band?"

"Flute and fiddle?" Judith lauded. "How many instruments do you play?"

"Four, I guess."

"You guess?" said Zack.

"Well, the flute and the violin, and I had piano lessons when I was really little, and a kinda play the guitar, just strumming basic chords."

Rita smirked. "Well, I'll say one thing about you're new boyfriend, Lil; he's modest."

"He's not my boyfriend," Lil said hurriedly. Her brown eyes met his blue eyes briefly. "Not that you aren't a..."

"It's fine," said Jonathan, saving her from trying to compliment him.

"Lunch buddies?" Judith suggested.  
The rest of the group shrugged and conceded that this was an acceptable term.


	4. Amelia Kate Baker

Mephistopheles was puttering about in his office, occasionally glancing at the progress through the blinds. He plopped down into his office chair, leaned back and put his feet up on the desk.

Suddenly, Providence appeared sitting atop the desk, her back to him glancing about the room. "So, Mephistopheles, how are the renovations coming along?"

Mephistopheles returned both feet to the desk top, crossed his ankles and straightened his tie. "We have four of the nine circles completed."

Providence rolled onto her stomach, her dainty feet wiggling in the air and her cleavage at eye-level with the devilish man. "And what's this I hear about you recruiting in Purgatory?" she asked sweetly.

He put his feet on the floor. "Well, you were doing it, so I thought fair's fair." Mephistopheles shifted in his seat.

"Well, at least we have training programs," Providence said. "What if your new recruits don't know how to act like proper hellions?" She changed position again, sitting with her knees on either side of his elbows.

"They know."

"And how do you convince them to join Hell anyway?" She ran her fingers through his muttonchops. "We all agreed to maintain free-will," she reminded him.

"I welcome them to Hell and offer them a job. The poor souls just assume it's where they belong."

"Convincing souls that they belong to Hell before the Death Panel even reviews their case! You are so sneaky," Providence complimented him.

"Hnnn, you like it when I'm sneaky, doncha?" He stood up to his full height and looked down as his sexy business rival.

"Of course, those souls could do good deeds while they have demon powers…" Providence cooed.

"I'd like to do some deeds with my demon powers," Mephistopheles tucked his thumbs into her waistband.

"And if they do good deeds, you'll have to forfeit the souls to me," Providence said in a low voice, her lips brushing Mephistopheles' neck.

"I'll forfeit my pants to you right now if you keep doing that."

* * *

Ever since Jonathan befriended Magill Nancy, Sock had to change his scheduled tormenting hours. At first the demon worried that this could hinder his progress, but soon he discovered that this was even better. The teen could not predict when the rascal Sock would appear; he could not brace himself for the torments or know how long they would last.

Jonathan opened the refrigerator, looking for some juice for breakfast. "Hey, hot –stuff," Sock greeted him. "See somethin' ya like?"

Jonathan shut the door in the young demon's face. "I think I lost my appetite."

Sock cheerfully phased through the door and floated around the kitchen.

"Why are you still here?" Jonathan asked.

Sock responded, "I think the more the more appropriate question is: why are _you_ still here?"

"Uh, because you suck at your job."

"I di- I su- I suck at my job?" Sock stammered. "I – I suck at my job? Jonathan, do… do you really think I suck at my job?"

The teen with the perpetually half-lidded eyes was out the door, closing it loudly behind him. Sock was crestfallen, and chose not to follow.

Sock was jarred out of his mope by the sound of music blasting from the other end of the house. He floated up the stairs and cautiously down the hall. The music was coming from the home office. The door was slightly ajar, so Sock peeked in.  
Plugged into the wall was a dusty boom-box that blared list item two of the Yellow Submarine Songtrack. A figure danced into view, a young person in a coal-grey, paint-spattered sweatshirt and wide leg jeans. His – maybe her, Sock couldn't tell –mousy brown hair was bouncing with each head shake. The kid was dancing like no one was watching and emphatically singing along to both the lyrics and the instrumental bits. "Bump-bum, bada-bada-bada, bump-bum, bump-bum, bada-bum…" singing with eyes shut. Who was this person? Sock wondered.

"Hey, Bulldog!" the kid sang out, jumping up on the desk. Sock smiled, whomever this person was, the passionate sing along was amusing. He entered the room and leaned against the wall.

"If you're lonely, you can talk to me!" the Beatles' fan sang, the last word suddenly quiet. Sock had been noticed. The teenager's posture straightened; the baggy sweatshirt no longer obscuring her ample bust. She quickly turned-off the music player. Sock straightened his posture, too, and rose a little off the ground in an attempt to look taller. It wasn't necessary, as the girl was only 5' 3". At the same time, each ghostly figure said, "Can you see me?" Suddenly, the girl's eyes widened with joy. Sock braced himself for a girlish scream, but it didn't happen.

"Wait, is this your haunting ground? Am I interrupting something?" the girl asked.

"Uh, no," Sock replied. "No. The guy I haunt is at school right now. I'm off hours."

"Ah," the girl nodded her head. There was an awkward pause. "My name is Kate."

"My name is Sock."

"Amelia Kate Baker."

"Napoleon Maxwell Sowachowski."

"I understand why you go by Sock," she smiled.

"Yeah… So… come here often?" Sock asked.

"Not really. It's my birthday, so I just wanted to be in my old bedroom for a bit. You know how it is."

"I haven't been dead all that long," Sock confessed. "I got this job as a demon like, right after –"

"You're a demon?"

"Yeah, aren't you?" Sock asked. "You must be. If you were an angel, you'd be pounding the crap outa me."

Kate smiled. "I'm a spirit. I _used_ to be a ghost, but now I have a job so they call me a spirit. I'm an ameliorator."

"What does that mean?"

"I ameliorate. It goes with my name. I'm Amelia Kate, and I ameliorate."

Sock's lexicon was vast for a 16 year old, but that word wasn't coming to mind. He hazarded a guess, "From the French word meaning…"

"To improve," Kate finished.

"Are you here because I suck at my job?" Sock blurted.

"Uh, no… you found me."

"Right."

Kate tilted her head. "Do you suck at your job?"

"No!" Sock said indignantly. "Well, maybe. It's not something you'd want to help with, though."

Kate tilted her head to the other side, "Why not?"

"It's demon work. It's not something a sweet little spirit such as yourself should get involved in."

Kate shrugged, "Okay."

"Well, I guess I'll be going," Sock said, turning to float through the wall.

"Wait!" Kate said quickly. Sock turned, his eye-brows raised. "Why not stay? You know, hang out," Kate suggested.

"You… you want to hang out with me?"

"Yeah," Kate gave a toothy smile. "It's been a while since I've had anyone to talk to other than Fergus."

"Fergus?" Sock asked. "Is he another spirit?"

"Ghost, actually."

* * *

On the roof of a church overlooking a cemetery, Providence was subjecting herself to another chat with the philosopher ghost.

"Fergus, I thought we'd already covered this topic."

"You can't tell me there is no God."

"Look, I am a representative of the enterprise known as Heaven. It is a multi-facetted association with many departments and subsidiaries. As far as I know, there is no one big guy with a white beard in-charge of it all… or if there is, I have not met him."

"But there had to be a founder. All organizations have founders."

"Just because a being creates something, does not mean she is in control of it in perpetuity."

Fergus huffed. Just once he would like to trap Providence into giving him a clear detail about Heaven.

"Well, what about the Ten Commandments? Who wrote those?"

"The what now?" Providence tilted her head in mock confusion.

"Ten Commandments," Fergus repeated. "You know…" Fergus deepened his voice to mimic the Moses movie, "Thou shalt not kill, thou shalt not commit adultery, keep holy the Sabbath…"

Providence started giggling. Fergus frowned, "What is so funny?"

"Oh, honey! I forget how many translations that book has been through. We don't think of them as commands. They aren't rules that you can break."

"Then what are they?"

"Think of them as affirmations. So many times people believe something is human nature, and that list of ten was meant to tell you about your better selves! To let you know you have the power to resist those out-side forces, both as individuals and as an entire society."

"Huh," responded Fergus. "So, what you're saying is: there are no rules."

"Of course there are rules!" Providence levitated slightly. "There are rules and if you break them without remorse or an excellent reason, you go to Hell."

Fergus leapt up. "So, you admit it! There is a Hell!"

Providence gave a sad little smirk. "Only because so many people wanted one."


	5. Halloween

It was Halloween night. Like last year, Jonathan's parents were at some adult Halloween party, so the teen was left in charge of handing out candy to trick-or-treaters. Like last year, he planned on watching whatever horror movie was free to stream. Unlike last year, he had an actual demon keeping him company. All day, Sock had been excitedly testing his "enhanced demon powers." It still seemed that only Jonathan could see him, but that only made certain other tricks even better. Whenever the door-bell Jonathan dutifully got up and opened the door hiding behind it, Sock held the candy bowl. All the trick-or-treaters saw was a floating bowl of candy. Most kids said aloud, "Oh, that is so cool!" and looked for the wires as they took a hand-fulls of candy. Sock liked it better when the little ones screamed and ran away. Jonathan didn't mind one way or the other.

Around 7:00, most of the kids were done; Jonathan had settled in to watch a film. When the door-bell rang, he groaned and got up to answer the door. Sock eagerly floated with the candy bowl. Jonathan opened the door. "Trick-or-treat!" shouted two familiar voices. On the step stood Magill Nancy dressed as a green fairy and Rita dressed as a cop. Jonathan snatched the hovering candy bowl, hoping Rita and Magill didn't notice.

"Hey! Jonathan! Cool, now we know where you live," Rita said with a toothy grin and a sideways glance at her friend.

"Don't even try it today, Jojo," Sock said smugly. Jojo gave him a quick jab, in spite of the warning. She yelped and pulled her burned hand back in surprise. Sock explained, "Today is All-Hallows-Eve. Angels can't hurt demons from dusk to dawn."

"Nice costumes," Jonathan said to the girls. He held out the bowl of candy.

"Actually," said Rita. "We're here collecting canned and boxed goods for the food shelf." She pointed behind them to a little wagon filled with soup and pasta. "Do you have any you could donate?"

"Uh, sure. You wanna come in?" Jonathan asked.

"You know it!" said Rita, before Magill could say otherwise.

They both nodded. They pulled the wagon up close to the house and went inside. Jonathan went into the kitchen to find something to donate.

"Didja like the floating candy bowl trick?" Sock asked Joane. "Just one of the many extra powers I have on Halloween."

Joane scoffed, "Hate to break it to ya, but that's not an extra power. We learned it like week one of angel training."

"You did?"

"Yeah, just takes some concentration," the angel said condescendingly. Sock kept smiling.

"You could stay for a bit, hang out like old times," the demon suggested to Joane.

The angel made a face. "You mean, forget that you murdered me and just watch a spooky movie?"

"I didn't mur – Is that why you – is that the reason you keep attacking me?"

"Don't play innocent. I read the file. You watched engrossed as the blood seeped out of my cracked skull. Engrossed!"

"That's not the same as murder," Sock insisted. "And it happened years ago. I thought angels were supposed to be forgiving."

"Pushing a sweet little girl to her death is not forgivable," Joane said.

"You weren't that sweet," Sock muttered to himself. Joane turned and headed for the door.

"Where are you going?" Sock asked. "Nancy is still here."

Sock pointed to the living room. The girl's jackets were draped over the recliner along with a cop's hate and pair of wire fairy wings. Rita and Magill had joined Jonathan to watch a movie. Jonathan brought in microwaved pop-corn and a couple of cans of soda.

"So, lovely Rita, meter maid," Jonathan said as he set down the pop-corn next to the near-empty bowl of candy.

"Are you going to inquire discretely?" Rita grinned.

"Yes, as to what Nancy here is supposed to be."

"You can call me Lil," she said quickly.

Rita's eye-brows practically left her forehead. Nancy pushed her purple bangs away from her face. "Don't give me that look. Friends call me Lil, and Jonathan's a friend."

"That's nice, I guess," said Jonathan, plunking himself in the recliner.

"Well, you wouldn't want me as an enemy; I know where you live," she said in an ominous voice.

Jonathan chuckled, "You're not going to scare me dressed as Tinkerbell."

Lil responded, "I'm not Tinkerbell. I'm the green fairy. You know, absinth."

"Rather familiar with that are you?" Jonathan teased.

Rita giggled. "It's Halloween. The one night of the year you are encouraged to express your naughty side and be self-indulgent."

Jonathan quipped, "So your naughty side collects food for charity?"

Lil snickered. Sock laughed aloud.

"It's not that funny," Joane hissed.

"Too bad Rita isn't the one you're protecting." Sock said. "Being her guardian angel seems like a cake-walk."

"If by cake-walk you mean boring," Joane retorted.

"Hey, I'm not that much of a goody-two-shoes," Rita said to her friends. "I have a wild side."

"Prove it!" Sock shouted.

"Prove it," Lil and Jonathan said in unison.

Sock's eyes became very wide. How much power did he have? How long until sunrise?

"What would you have me do?" Rita fired back.

"Vandalism, robbery, arson!" Sock's thoughts came out of Lil and Jonathan's mouths.

"Raid the liquor cabinet," Lil suggested.

"Raid the medicine cabinet," Jonathan said.

"Get a tattoo on a naughty spot," Lil said.

"Show us the tattoo you already have!" Jonathan taunted.

"Animal sacrifice!" Rita joined.

"Graffiti in the graveyard."

"Dance naked in the moonlight!"

"Orgy!"

Joane gave Sock a deadly glare. She loomed over him. "If they do _any_ of your suggestions, you will be a smear on the sidewalk tomorrow."

"On second thought…" Jonathan said returning to his calm demeanor. "Maybe we could let Rita pick the movie."

Rita grinned. "Either of you seen Rocky Horror Picture Show?"

Rita and Magill were still there when Jonathan's parents returned from their Halloween party. Mrs. Combs offered to give the girls a ride home. Rita and Magill left Jonathan's house giggling and humming the Time Warp; the sugar rush was clearly at full strength. Sock heard someone playing acoustic guitar up in Jonathan's room. Jonathan and his father were lazily watching a horror film, unaware that the soft guitar sounds were not part of the movie's eerie sound track. Sock floated up the stairs to investigate.

Amelia Kate was seated on the floor with Jonathan's guitar in her lap. She was singing and accompanying herself with a simple strumming rhythm. It wasn't impressive on its own, but it was impressive considering she was a ghost.

"How are you doing that?" Sock asked as he settled onto the floor.

Kate looked up slightly startled, then smiled. "Lots of practice," she said. "And I'm not that good at it. I only learned enough to read tab and strum along."

"That's more than I can do."

"I could give you some lessons," Kate offered. "Here," she said, holding out Jonathan's guitar.

Remembering what Jojo had told him about needing a little bit of extra concentration, Sock furrowed his brow and put his tongue between his teeth. He held out his arms to take the guitar. He gave a little laugh when Kate let go and the guitar remained in his hands. However, when the demon dared to give the instrument a strum, it fell through his and landed on the floor with a twanging thud.

Kate gave a little gasp. She carefully ran her hand over the guitar, and returned it to its case. "You don't need guitar lessons," she said. "You need some basic ghost lessons."


	6. Not Sleeping

The sun had set hours ago. Jonathan had managed to brush his teeth in spite of a demon making the toothpaste tube explode. He had mastered the art of putting pajamas on while in bed, since Sock still refused to look away as Jonathan undressed. Sock was hovering in the corner, staring at Jonathan. Jonathan groaned and rolled over in his bed. Sock quickly flashed into another corner, still staring. Jonathan squeezed his eyes shut, but it was no use. He knew the demon was there and it was unnerving. Sock snickered. Why hadn't he thought of this sooner? Sleep deprivation would lead to insanity, and insanity would surly lead to self-destruction.

"Don't you have something better to do?" Jonathan hissed, not wanting to wake his parents.

"Nope!" Sock replied with a peevish grin.

"Don't you need to sleep?" Jonathan asked.

"Not really. I'm dead, so I don't have a body that needs to rest," Sock explained.

"But then you don't have eyes to see or ears to hear. How do you explain that?"

Sock paused. He answered, "I'm not sure. I didn't really think about it. I guess the rules change once a being reaches super-natural status. In a way, I'm mostly like a detached consciousness. Huh… gives new meaning to that Matrix movie."

Jonathan propped his head up with his arm. "So, if you're a detached consciousness, would sleeping, like, destroy you? Because sleeping makes you unconscious?"

"Actually, being unconscious and being asleep are not the same thing. Sleep is rapidly reversible. That's why it is unlikely that patients would experience a dream-like state under anesthesia."

"Huh," Jonathan responded.

Sock explained, "My dad suggested I become a surgeon when I grew up."

Jonathan nodded. "Have you tried sleeping? Since you became a demon, I mean."

Sock shook his head. He confessed, "The last time I slept, I started sleep walking. I sleep-walked into my parents' bedroom and sleep-stabbed them to death."

Jonathan let out a soft whistle.

Sock continued, "And I did all that while still human. Who knows what might happen if I start dreaming as a demon. I could go all Freddy Krueger or something."

"Killing people in their dreams so that they die in the real world? That sounds like something you'd enjoy."

Sock frowned. "There's a difference between killing people and making them die," he asserted.

"Hah! Do tell."

"Well, say you're hunting pheasants with your uncle. Killing the pheasant is fun. Gutting it is fun. But you know that the next time you go hunting, you're going to find another pheasant. You haven't taken the life of something unique."

"I guess not," Jonathan said. However, Sock could see that this suburban boy had never been hunting. The demon tried a different scenario. "You know how you kill people in video games?"

"Of course."

"And that's fun, right?"

"In a way. I mean, they -"

Sock interrupted, "Video games don't make you go to funerals. I never liked funerals."

"How many people did you kill?" Jonathan asked.

"What? No! It's not like that. It was just a small town, everybody knew everybody. Between the two suicides after the plant closed, and the three kids that died when their truck went through the ice, and the girl that died huffing paint… I don't think two years passed without my mom making me attend at least one funeral."

"Uh, sorry?" was all Jonathan could think to say.

Sock shook his head. "Don't be! You gave me some great comfort. If insanity or depression don't lead you to off yourself, maybe boredom will. I'm gonna let you get to sleep. Tomorrow might be a big day of doing nothing all that special."

"Thanks," said Jonathan. He rolled over and promptly began snoring. Sock wasn't sure how to feel about that.

* * *

Sock drifted swiftly, yet aimlessly through the small town. Just before dawn, he happened upon Fergus sitting in a large tree near a small lake.

"Fergus, what do you do at night?" Sock asked.

Fergus answered in a nasally voice, "The same thing we do every night, Pinky. Try to take over the world!"

Fergus turned to Sock with a silly grin. Sock tilted his head. "Why are you talking that way?"

"Pinky and the Brain. The white mice… from the cartoon… Animaniacs?"

"Ummmm… gone before my time?" Sock suggested.

"Doubt it," Fergus scoffed. "A show that good certainly went into syndication."

"That still doesn't answer my original question." Sock repeated his query, "What do you do at night?"

"I usually sleep," answered the tall ghost.

"Do you dream?" Sock asked. "I'm afraid of what will happen if I fall asleep and start dreaming."

Fergus shrugged, "I don't dream, or at least I haven't for a while. Sometimes I sleep for days, until my reaper senses start tingling and I wake up."

"You're a reaper? Like a grim reaper with a scythe?" Sock asked excitedly.

Fergus leaned back casually. "I was," he said. "I'm on strike."

"Do you still have the scythe?"

"I melted it down to make ninja throwing stars," Fergus answered.

Socks eyes widened. "Cool," he murmured.

Fergus chuckled and shook his head with a sigh.

"Fergus! Why didn't you tell me Sock was here?" said a voice from the water.

Sock turned to see Kate's head and shoulders just above the water. The rising sun put sparkles on the water, and Kate left no shadow. But, even with the light glinting off the water, Sock noticed something was different about Amelia Kate.

"Are you… naked?" the demon asked.

"I'm pretending to be a mermaid. Can't very well do that with a bulky sweatshirt," Kate replied.

"Sock was asking about what ghosts do at night," Fergus told her.

Kate began to swim towards the shore. A water-strider would have caused more noticeable ripples.

"Don't!" Sock shouted. "Just… just put some clothes on before you get out of the water."

Amelia Kate rose ever so slightly out of the lake and Sock threw his hands over his eyes. Kate laughed. Her paint-splattered sweatshirt and materialized around her. "You're such a gentleman," she teased.

"Pants, too?" Sock queried, his hand still covering his eyes.

"Well, now I'm offended by your lack of curiosity," said Kate. "I thought checking out naked women was the first thing a boy would do once he was invisible." She made a pair of navy blue leggings appear.

"Is that what you did?" Sock inquired. "Check out naked guys?"

"I might have done," Kate answered.

"I know I did," said Fergus with an impish grin.


	7. Tormenting from a distance

Jonathan had just spent another miserable math period in the company of Sock the demon. A new trimester had begun and by an extra cruel twist of fate, the senior had math first period. For someone who supposedly kicked the bucket his sophomore year, Sock was annoyingly good at Pre-Calculous. Jonathan gritted his teeth whenever Sock raised his hand wildly and shouted "Pick me! Pick me! I know!" as if the teacher would ever call on him. When the bell rang, Sock sauntered out of the room after Jonathan. He was mid-way through the door when he received a karate kick to the sternum.

"Fifteen feet, Napo!" Sock heard Joane shout. He blinked rapidly and looked around for Magill Nancy. The purple-haired girl was chatting with Jonathan as he strolled down the hall to his next class.

In the days that followed, Sock repeatedly found himself in pain. Every time he turned a corner, there was Jojo the angel ready to put her fist or foot into his tender gut. Lil and Jonathan now shared four classes, and, as Sock discovered, it was a small school. Even so, Lil found herself suggesting alternate routes to their separate classes so she and Jonathan could spend even more time together. Sock found himself trying to torment from a distance. However, there were some days where it just felt easier to skip the haunting entirely and spend time with Amelia Kate.

* * *

"I'm going to the library to grab some CDs. Wanna join me?" Kate said to Sock one day. "It'd be a great chance to practice teleporting."

Sock sighed. Kate's efforts to make him a better demon were nice, but he resented it slightly. "Fine," he said and popped out of sight.

Pop! Pop! Both Sock the demon and Amelia Kate were in the local public library. Sock found himself surrounded by books on hunting and taxidermy.

"Sock? Where are you?" he heard Kate calling.

It felt weird to shout in a library, but since only Kate could hear him, he supposed it was fine. "I'll be right there!"

Sock found Amelia Kate in between the narrow shelves of CDs and cassette tapes.

"Are you stealing CDs?" Sock asked.

"Of course not," Kate retorted. "This is a library. I am borrowing them. I just returned the batch I borrowed last week." She pointed to a short stack of CDs on the re-shelving cart.

"Don't people notice a stack of CDs floating through the air?" Sock asked. "Aren't they freaked out?"

"They would be. That's why I swaddle," said Kate.

"Swaddle?"

"Yeah. It's a great ghost trick. Oh! You don't know about swaddling?" Kate's eyes lit up.

"Nope. Tell me about swaddling."

Kate held up a CD. "Now they see it," she said, waving it above her head. Then in a large gesture she lifted up her sweatshirt and tucked the CD under. "Now they don't," she concluded.

"So, you can just hide anything inside your clothes?" Sock queried.

"Yep. When you phase, they phase. These CDs are temporarily as intangible as I am."

A grin spread across Sock's face.

* * *

"Sock! Where did you hide my headphones?" Jonathan demanded.

The little demon smirked.

"Stealing textbooks and homework from my locker is one thing, but this is my music we're talking about!" Sock continued to grin like a Cheshire cat. "Is nothing sacred?"

"I'm a demon."

"I hate you."

"If you're really desperate for music, why try a blast from the past?" Sock pointed to a Sony Walkman and a short stack of CDs he'd found in Jonathan's closet.

Jonathan squinted his eyes; "I smell a trap."

"You're going to miss the bus."

Jonathan glanced at his phone to check the time. With a snort, he took the Walkman and a Red Hot Chili Peppers CD. Then he stomped out of the room.

Sock waited, peering out the window until he saw the bus drive away. Then he gleefully pulled the stolen property out from under his sweater vest. He removed his cap; his extreme cowlick popped up only to be crushed flat again by the band of the headphones.

"Watcha listening to?" Kate asked when she appeared.

"Valhalla Soundbox."

"Then what is Jonathan listening to?"

Sock gave an impish grin. "Abba."

On the bus, Jonathan settled into his seat and pressed play. The intro did not sound familiar to him. Then the words: "My, my! At Waterloo, Napoleon did surrender…"

Jonathan scowled and muttered to himself, but let the music play on.

* * *

Lunchtime used to be Jonathan's favorite time. He could sit quietly and eat his sandwich while his small group of friends chatted and Sock stayed far, far away. Sadly, The new class schedule meant Lil and Jonathan no longer had lunch at the same time. Sock had resumed making lunchtime range from gross to embarrassing.

"You gonna finish that?" Sock asked, pointing to Jonathan's sandwich.

"Of course I'm going to finish it; I've taken like two bites," Jonathan mumbled, then took a third. He set the sandwich down and picked up a carton of chocolate milk.

Sock bit his upper lip and reached towards the sandwich with twitchy fingers. Jonathan set down his milk and discovered that his sandwich was not where he left it. Instead, the demon was holding it proudly and running his tongue back and forth across the bread.

Jonathan snatched the sandwich back, hoping no one in the cafeteria had noticed his levitating lunch.

"Hey!" Sock shouted, "I was eating that." He clawed at Jonathan's arm, but his hands passed right through.

"You can't eat," Jonathan said flatly. He saw the demon eying the carton of milk. He kept his left hand on his sandwich and protectively held his milk carton in the right. "Can't you let me eat in peace?"

Sock gleefully floated above Jonathan's head. "I'll let you _rest_ in peace."

"Go bug someone else for a change."

Sock shrugged and sauntered off. Jonathan would regret making that suggestion.

Zack had spent a long time in the hot-lunch line and was looking for a place to sit and eat his two servings of spaghetti with marinara sauce. Catching Jonathan's eye, Zack sauntered towards the table. Suddenly, he slipped on a well-placed candy wrapper and the plastic lunch tray sailed through the air. Due to some demon-assisted physics, the entire load of spaghetti came showering down upon Jonathan and couple of students in letterman jackets. Zack stood quickly and began to apologize. An unseen assailant launched a pudding cup. Someone shouted "Food fight!" The whole cafeteria burst into a frenzy.

Sock found Jonathan in the restroom, pulling strands of angel hair pasta out of his blonde locks. "Still want me to bug someone else?" the demon asked smugly.

Jonathan whirled around and grabbed his scrawny tormentor by the neck. Sock's eyes nearly bugged out of his head, first in surprise, then in pain. A few sophomore boys entered the restroom, covered in food splatter. They were startled by look on Jonathan's face, the way he was glaring into space. One of them coughed nervously. Jonathan quickly dropped his hands from Sock's throat, then skulked away.

* * *

When Mephistopheles asked Sock for a progress report, Sock began to babble. "At first I thought I couldn't touch anything and nothing could hurt me – like I would just pass through it. But then I got repeatedly punched by an angel."

Mephistopheles shrugged. "Yeah, well, angels couldn't their jobs if demons were completely impervious."

"But then I discovered that I can move objects! I just have to concentrate. And it doesn't matter how heavy they are, either! Any object."

"Good for you."

"But still not people. Why can I move objects and still pass through people?"

"Objects don't have free will," the manager of Hell explained.

"Okay, okay," Sock nodded. "But then, right after I instigated a massive food fight, Jonathan strangles me! Explain that!"

"Cool down, kid," Mephistopheles said, rolling his eyes. "You're a homicidal teen that offed himself, not some adorable nerd that just acquired super powers. If someone wants to hurt you, they can."

Sock stuck out his lower lip. Mephistopheles gave him a little shake. "Don't feel so bad. You know, Halloween isn't the only day demons come out on top."

Sock perked up. "What other days are there?"

Mephistopheles spread his arms wide. "There's practically one every month. There's the solstices, the equinoxes… there's that thing mid-March…"

"Beware the ides of March?"

"Yeah, that's it. Plus any red moon or lunar eclipse… I've got a calendar around here somewhere…"


	8. Distractions

"A healthy lifestyle is an active one," the Phy. Ed. teacher was fond of repeating. "I have asked you to line up this way because we are about to begin a new unit."

The students were lined up in two lines, girls on one side, boys on the other. They were supposed to line up by height, but several students had swapped positions in anticipation.

"We are done with bad-mitten and are now beginning ballroom dance!"

The obligatory groan commenced. The teacher continued, "Your partner is standing across from you."

Joane patted herself on the back. In the lining-up commotion, she had managed to assure that Lil was standing right across from Jonathan. It wasn't easy; the boy could gain or lose two inches depending on how much he slouched.

Lil gave Jonathan a little smile and shrugged her shoulders, hoping he knew she hadn't planned this. Jonathan gave her a small smile back. Then silently prayed that his hands wouldn't get clammy.

Sock perched at the top of the bleachers and shouted, "Jon and Nancy sitting in a tree! K-I-S-S-I-N-G!"

Jonathan clenched his teeth and tried to ignore the demonic pip-squeak.

It became harder and harder to maintain a friendly face as the class continued. Sock dashed about the gym tirelessly, weaving in and out of the bleachers, and hanging from the basketball hoops while shouting a mix of lewd comments and disparaging remarks about Jonathan's dance technique. Occasionally, he would call out, "Ow! Ow! Fine, I'll stop." But five minutes later he would resume.

"Jonathan," Lil whispered. "You're hurting my hand."

Jonathan dropped his arms to his side, took a step back and mumbled, "Sorry." He turned and glared towards the bleachers.

"It's fine," Lil said. She put her left hand on his shoulder and her right hand in the air. Jonathan put his hand on her waist and tried to focus on the gym teacher's instructions.

"What do you keep looking at?" Lil asked when Jonathan glared towards the bleachers for the third time.

"It's … you wouldn't believe me if I told you," Jonathan answered.

Joane murmured in Lil's ear. "Promise you won't laugh. Tell him you really want to know."

Lil gave a friendly smile. "Try me," she said. "I won't laugh."

"Can we just focus on the box step?" Jonathan replied.

Sock floated above saying, "Head up, chest out. You're the man, take the lead!"

Lil pressed, "You know, I thought about introducing myself last year – you know, when you were the new kid. I wish I had 'cause you're a pretty great guy."

Jonathan swallowed. He was not used to compliments. "Thanks," he muttered.

Magill Nancy wasn't used to giving compliments, but something made it feel right. She continued, "Recently you've been acting weird, like really distracted and frustrated. You used to be so calm and focused."

"Tell her, Jonathan! I dare you!" Sock shouted from the bleachers. He ran up and down chanting, "Tell her! Tell her! Tell her!"

Jonathan grimaced, turned away from Lil and shouted back towards Sock, "You want me to tell? Fine!"

Suddenly the gym felt crowded and everyone had turned their eyes towards the outburst. Jonathan clenched his jaw, glanced back at his dance partner, then fled the room.

* * *

"Jonathan? Are you alone?" Sock asked when the teen returned home from school.

"I'm never alone, Sock. I have you," the teen answered sardonically.

"So, Nancy isn't with you."

"You mean Lil?" Jonathan brushed past the demon and made his way upstairs.

"I'm not allowed to call her that," Sock mumbled. He quickly flitted up the stairs and hovered over Jonathan's desk. Jonathan paid little notice as he removed a textbook from his backpack.

Sock fidgeted with his scarf as he spoke, "So, is she your girl-friend now?"

Jonathan gave Sock a placid look. Clearly, Sock was not the first person to make this interrogation. "We ate lunch at the same table last month. Now, we are in four of the same classes. Today, we happened to become dance partners for gym. I walked her home twice. We kissed -"

Sock interrupted, "You kissed?! Where was I?"

"Hell if I know," Jonathan snapped. He frowned, "No pun intended," he muttered. He pulled a calculator and notebook out of the bag.

"So, to be clear, you kissed her, but you're not dating. You have no romantic intentions towards Magill Nancy whatsoever."

"What do _you_ care?" Jonathan huffed.

"Because she has a guardian angel," Sock explained.

"And I have a demon, so what?"

"So, every time she gets near you, Jojo punches me in the face."

Jonathan smirked at little. "Jojo?"

"That's the angel's name."

"Let me get this straight," Jonathan said, turning his swivel chair to face the whining demon. "If Magill Nancy becomes my girlfriend, you're worried her guardian angel will hurt you even more than he already does."

"She. Jojo is a girl. And yes," Sock affirmed.

"Huh," Jonathan chuckled to himself and turned the chair around. "I should ask Lil to marry me."

"What?!" Sock stammered.

But Jonathan had put his headphones on; the conversation was over.

* * *

It was late afternoon and Sock was busying himself throwing a tennis ball against the wall of Jonathan's bedroom. More often than not, he would fail to catch it, the ball phasing through his hand. He was undeterred by the failures, just focusing even harder. His concentration was broken when someone yanked his cap off his head. "Hey!" he protested, turning about to see the thief.

It was Kate. She stood there inspecting the cap. "Why are you always wearing this thing? What are the googles for?"

"It looks cool and hides my cowlick," Sock answered.

"Your wha – oh my," Kate tried to suppress a laugh when she actually saw the hair sticking up at a 90 degree angle.

"Give back the hat," Sock demanded.

"No, wait. Let me fix it," Kate requested, reaching her hand towards his hair.

"The hat can fix it," Sock countered.

"Oh, c'mon! Let me do my job," Kate said.

"Fine!" Sock huffed. He turned his back to her.

Kate put the hat on her own head to free up her hands. She reached her fingers into Sock's auburn hair.

Sock could feel her fingers twisting and combing through his unruly locks. There was a pause, and then he felt fingernails making small circles on his scalp. "What are you doing?" he asked.

"It's something we did at the youth theater," Kate told him. "There was a group of us that always got cast as an animal or a troll or some other crazy character with a hood or a wig. After the show we'd sit in a circle and do back massages and head scratchies." She drew her nails from his forehead all the way to the nape of his neck, then back the other way. "Feels nice, right?"

"Yeah," Sock replied.

Kate continued to scratch his entire head with both hands. Sock found himself relaxing completely, his jaw fell open and his tongue began to loll out. Kate stopped and said, "Okay, my turn."

"Awww," Sock protested.

"Hey, fair's fair," Kate said, handing Sock back his cap. She proceeded to sit on the corner of the bed and indicated that Sock should kneel behind her. She removed her head band. Sock shrugged and did as she requested.

He thrust his fingers into her soft, thick hair. He began to scratch, starting at the crown and working down towards the ears. Kate made a sound somewhere between a moan and a hum.

"Am I doing this right?" Sock asked.

"Harder," Kate murmured.

Sock dug his nails into her scalp and scratched vigorously. He half-way expected her to say 'ow' and tell him to stop. Instead, she said, "Yes! More of that."

Sock continued to scratch. Kate tilted her head forward, back, and side to side, indicating where Sock should scratch. She made quiet, happy noises the whole time. Sock was slightly surprised by how much he enjoyed hearing her moan.

After several minutes, Kate announced, "Okay, I'm good." She gently batted Socks hands away from her head.

"Then, could I have some more?" Sock ventured to ask.

Kate smiled. "Sure."

Sock hustled to switch positions with her. He pulled off his cap eagerly.

Jonathan came home and found Sock sitting on the corner of the bed, slouched forward, his cap on his knee. Jonathan opened his back-pack pulled out a paper-back book. He set his bed pillow up against the wall, preparing to sit and read the assigned chapter for his lit class. He thought he heard panting. He took a closer look at Sock. The demon was acting like a contended puppy-dog, tongue out and feet twitching.

"What are you doing?" Jonathan demanded.

Sock looked up lazily. "Kate is giving me head-scratchies," he said. He dropped his head again and gave a happy groan.

"Well, could she stop? Cuz I need to read this book and _that_ is distracting."

Jonathan immediately regretted his statement, because Sock turned things up to eleven.

"No! Kate, don't stop! It feels so good!" Sock loudly panted. "Harder… faster… faster…harder," he moaned. "Ah, ah, ah, Amelia!"

Jonathan scowled. Kate gingerly pulled her hands out of Sock's hair. "I think we're done," she said.

Sock continued the show for Jonathan. "No! More! Please, more! I want it so bad."

"Yeah, we're done," Kate said firmly. She floated off the bed and out of the house.

Sock fell backwards on the bed. "Awww," he whined.

"I take it Kate left?" Jonathan said. He sat on the bed and leaned against the upright pillow.

"Yeah," Sock moped.

"Good, now I can get some reading done."

Sock rolled over onto his stomach. He propped his chin up in his hands and with an impish grin said, "Oh! Jonathan, you read that book. Yes! Yes! Read it!"

Jonathan grimaced. He muttered to himself, "Why do I even bother?"


	9. Boys' night out and girls' night in

"Fergus! My fellow incorporeal! How goes it?" Sock greeted the ghost warmly.

"We're not friends, Sock," Fergus replied.

Sock tried to playfully punch the ghost in the arm, but his fist when straight through. "Amelia Kate said she was having a girls' night in with Joane. She suggested we have a guy's night out."

The former college student looked the homicidal teen up and down. "What did you have in mind?"

Sock shrugged, "I was gonna ask Jonathan for a suggestion."

Mephistopheles suddenly appeared behind Sock. "The last thing you need is to bring your charge along."

Sock turned around surprised. Mephistopheles continued, "It's your day off and you shouldn't bond with that boy any more than you already have. C'mon, Fergus – that's your name, right?"

Fergus straightened at little. "Uh, yeah. You're – "

"Mephistopheles. Now, Fergus, let's take this young demon to the seediest place we can find in this dull town."

"Can guys like us even get drunk?" Fergus asked.

"You can when I'm tending bar!" Mephistopheles grinned and snapped his fingers. Sock and Fergus found themselves on cushy stools in a room dimly illuminated by yellow light bulbs and neon signs. The man with the orange muttonchops did a back-flip and landed behind the bar. About an hour in, Mephistopheles was feeling disgruntled. They had discovered what kind of drunk Sock was, the kind that felt like discussing philosophy. Of course, Fergus felt that way at all levels of sobriety.

"Why is murder wrong?" Sock wondered aloud.

Mephistopheles raised an eyebrow. "What kind of a question is that?"

"Well, more objectively," said Fergus, cutting in, "Why do the people who believe in Heaven think that killing innocent people is wrong?"

Mephistopheles dropped a pill into a drink before the human bar tender handed it to a pretty girl with a fake ID. "Why do you think murder is wrong?" he replied.

Fergus grinned wide. Finally, a real debate. "It's not," he stated.

"Whaaat?" Sock said.

"I mean, as long as an eternal reward exists, murder isn't wrong."

"I see whatcher sayin," Sock took another swig of he wasn't sure what. "The murderer is sending the innocent person to Heaven. What is a few years of life in comparison to an eternity of bliss?"

Mephistopheles blinked, but otherwise maintained a poker face as he refilled their glasses.

Fergus continued, "On the other hand, if there is no Heaven, then murder is unjustifiable and highly consequential."

"Go on..." said Sock, propping his chin in his hand.

"Those that don't believe in Heaven, most likely don't believe in an after-life of any sort. They think their current life is all they get – all anyone gets. Taking someone's life means ending that person forever – destroying everything they might have become. Human empathy alone would make that a sickening proposition."

Sock tilted his head, "So, you're saying murder is only wrong if there is no after-life."

Mephistopheles finally weighed in on the conversation, "Being a ghost isn't really that great, is it?" He sharpened a jack-knife and returned it to a man's coat pocket.

Fergus shook his head. "You have two options here, Memphis. Either Heaven isn't better than life on Earth, or murdering innocent people isn't wrong."

Mephistopheles clenched his teeth at the nick-name. "You assume that innocence is a free pass to Heaven."

Fergus countered, "No, I do not. As long as there is an eventual entering into Heaven for the victim, the murderer has done nothing worse than inconvenience that particular soul."

Sock nodded vigorously, "Yeah, Jojo gets to be an angel! Why's she so pissed?"

"How can you justify sending a murderer to eternal punishment when he simply modified the path another was taking towards eternal bliss?"

Mephistopheles rolled his eyes. "You sure you two don't want to instigate a brawl or witness some adultery or something?"

Sock hiccoughed, then said, "Nah, I'm good."

"Then why are you a demon?" Fergus blurted.

"Ahhh, I see what you did there. Nice," Sock said and held up his glass. Fergus clinked it and they both drank.

More somberly, Sock said, "Maybe who ends up in Hell is just arbitrary."

Fergus turned to Mephistopheles. "I amend what I said earlier. There are three options. Either Heaven isn't better than Earth, murder isn't wrong, or Providence and the whole organization she represents are unjust."

Mephistopheles took a deep breath and leaned back. "Which option do you hope is true?" He chuckled and faded out of sight.

* * *

Meanwhile, Amelia Kate and Joane were attempting to enjoy a girl's night. They'd only been briefly introduced by Fergus when Joane suggested the girl ghost join her at Rita's up-coming pajama party. The last one had been so dull, mortal girls never seemed to want to talk about soccer, or dinosaurs, or horror movie monsters.

"Thanks for inviting me to the sleep-over, Jojo," Kate said. They lay across from each other and in between the three sleeping bags in the TV room of Rita's house. Rita, Judith, and Magill were in the bathroom, brushing their teeth and seeing who would be the first to spit out the foam.

"No problem," the angel replied. "It's nice to have another girl immortal around."

"Fergus told me you are an angel. What's that like?"

"So far so good. I've only been doing it for a few months. It's kinda fun. What do you do? You're a ghost?"

"I'm an ameliorator." There was a long pause. "I improve things."

"Oh," the angel said. More silence. The two spirits turned their attention to the three humans.

"So, Lil," Judith said as she propped herself up with her elbows, "What's going on between you and Jonathan?"

Lil let her face drop into her pillow and groaned.

"Oh, c'mon, you can tell us," Rita goaded.

Lil turned her head to the side, "There's nothing to tell."

"And that bugs you, doesn't it?" Rita cajoled.

"It's not nothing," Judith insisted. "He walks you to class. You eat lunch with him all the time. He's your dance partner in Health –"

"Oooh! Is he a good dancer?" Rita grinned.

Lil shrugged. "I guess."

"Yeah, you just gotta let him know you're interested in something more. He's not a mind reader; no man is," Rita said.

"Well, maybe she should be more coy. You know, play hard to get," Judith pointed out.

Lil propped herself up. "You can't play hard to get if no one is chasing you."

"You want him to chase you, you gotta shout 'Tag! You're it!'" Rita pushed Lil's shoulder.

Lil raised her eye-brows. "What does that even mean?"

"Wait, wait, wait," Judith waved her hands. "We've gotten ahead of ourselves. We're assuming Lil wants a boyfriend."

Rita and Judith looked expectantly at the teenager with purple hair. Joane and Kate looked, too. Lil thrust her face back into her pillow. "I don't know," came her muffled response.

Judith pressed, "If you were going to have a boyfriend, you'd want it to be Jonathan. Right?"

"I don't know."

"Does he give you those below-the-belly-button feelings?" Rita asked.

"What?" Judith hissed.

Rita shrugged. "That's what my mom calls them, below the belly button feelings."

Judith nodded thoughtfully. "That's an oddly good description. I like it." She returned her attention to Lil. "So, what do you say? You got some below the belly button feelings for the stoic blonde guy?"

"Maybe," Lil answered.

"Maybe?" Rita poked at Lil through her sleeping bag. "Maybe?" she repeated.

"Maybe," Lil squeaked, curling and trying to roll away from Rita's pokes. Kate floated out of the way. Joane moved to protect her charge, but then stopped when she saw Kate shaking her head.

"Maybe?" Judith joined in the poking from the other side.

"Fine! Fine! Yes!"

"Yes what?" Rita and Judith said in unison, still poking.

Lil batted at their hands. "Jonathan gives me below the belly button feelings." She sighed. "Now, can we please change the subject?"

The girls settled back into their positions, lying on their stomachs. Lil said, "Rita, tell us about Zack."

Rita smirked. "Yeah, I bet Zack has some below the belly button feelings for Jonathan, too."

"What?" Lil squawked. She glanced over at Judith, whose eyes were also quite wide.

"Rita!" Judith scolded. "I can't believe you outted Zack like that. What kind of a beard are you?"

"Zack's gay?" Lil asked. "Oh, Rita…"

"I don't need your pity," Rita said waving her hand. "I'm gay, too."

"Do your parents know?" Lil whispered.

"Yeah. I told them last summer."

"What'd they say?"

Rita gave a toothy grin. "No more sleepovers with Loretta."

All three girls broke into a fit of giggles. Kate was laughing, too.

"What are you laughing about?" Jojo asked.

"Memories, just really good memories," Kate answered.

Jojo shook her head. "I don't get any of this stuff."

"Oh, come now. Surely you remember puberty – the changes, the self-discovery, the raging hormones…"

"Nope. I died when I was nine. I grew up in Heaven."

"You're saying there's no love in Heaven?" Kate looked disappointed.

"Oh, there's love. It's the mutual kind, or the self-sacrificing kind, or the fraternal kind. There's none of this stuff," she gestured vaguely towards the teenage girls below.

Kate settled back towards the floor. "Stuff?"

"You know. Crushes, hormones, being … curious," Jojo's voice grew quieter with each word.

Kate squinted.

"What's that look?" the angel demanded.

Kate answered, "I'm trying to decide if you're lucky or not."


	10. Tangible

Amelia Kate stood in the snow at the top of a hill. The park and bike trails were never used in the winter and infrequently in the summer as well. The near-by bench was covered in a foot of snow which hid a layer of crusty bird droppings. Sock stood beside Kate, hiding his fidgeting hands in his vest pockets. "Why'd you bring me here?" he asked.

"I overheard you complain about Jonathan not being affected," Kate answered. "This is where I go most days when I'm tired of feeling invisible." She looked out at the view of sky and trees and snow blanketed plots marked with prairie restoration signs. "Practically no one comes here, so I don't feel ignored; and it's a public park, so I don't feel like I'm trespassing."

Sock felt his fingers grip his knife. "It really is a perfect spot," Sock agreed. His old friend raced out of his pocket, glinted in the sunlight, and landed deep between Amelia Kate's shoulder-blades.

She gave a small cry, but it sounded more like shock than pain. The demon withdrew the knife and watched the blood gush and trickle. His head slowly tilted to the side and he felt warm and relaxed.

Kate turned around to face Sock. "You stabbed me," she announced.

"I'm sorry. I – I didn't know that would work," Sock stared at his knife dumbfounded.

"You stabbed me," Kate repeated. "I was bleeding. But now… Sock, look!" When Sock brought himself to look at her, he saw that the blood, the wound itself, even the tear in the clothing, was gone.

"I don't understand. You seem excited," he confessed.

"Sock, I'm a ghost. It takes a hurricane for me to feel a breeze in my hair. I can't even give Fergus a high-five. Somehow, this…" she searched for the words. "Do it again?" Kate requested.

There was a moment of hesitation, then Sock obliged. His knife went into her side. Kate made an odd noise. "Does that feel… good?" Sock ventured to ask.

"I can _feel_ it," Kate whispered, "And that is good."

Sock took out the knife. Kate crumpled to the ground. She instinctively held her side. He knelt beside her, trying not to be distracted by the blood drenching her sleeve. "Are you sure you're okay?" Sock asked.

Kate let herself fall back into the snow. Her eyes were closed. The ghost didn't seem in pain, just processing, overwhelmed by the sensation. Sock stayed kneeling beside her, watching the blood retreat into the closing wound. Suddenly, Kate's face changed. Her eyes shot open and she grabbed a fist-full of scarf and sweater vest. Sock struggled to maintain his balance as Kate pulled herself up, bringing her face close to his. When he felt Amelia Kate's lips on his lips, Sock simply froze. The soft kiss ended, Kate's hand released, and she opened her eyes. She tried to read Sock's face, but could not. The two teenagers sat side by side not speaking.

It was Kate that broke the silence. "I kissed you."

"Yup. You did," Sock replied.

"How do you feel?" Kate asked, turning towards him.

"I'm… confused," he said, still not able to look at her.

"Should I try kissing you again? You'd know it was coming so you could kiss back."

"I think that would just make me more confused."

Kate licked her lips. "Maybe I did it wrong. I've never kissed anyone before."

Sock looked down at his hands; he was still holding his trusty knife. "No, you did fine."

Kate hugged her knees to her chest. "I just wanted to see if we could feel anything else."

"Jonathan should be home soon," was all Sock could think to say.

"Right, well, this was a big day," Kate said. "Lots to think about. See ya." Then she vanished.

Sock looked at his reflection in his knife. His left hand gently touched his lips. He shoved the knife deep into his vest pocket and teleported away.

* * *

"I have a new plan for Jonathan's death," Sock announced.  
"I'm listening," Kate said.

"He is going to film himself playing guitar and singing as a gift for Magill."

"Oh, so sweet…"

"Yes, and I'll put it on the internet. Then, he'll get millions of views and become an overnight sensation, a teen heartthrob. Next, he'll get swept up in the fame and celebrity status; he'll make bad friends and poor decisions, starting him down the path of risky behavior and substance abuse. His life will conclude with a fatal overdose."

"That's a horrible plan," Kate said.

"I'm a demon," Sock responded, tilting his head to one side, "I do horrible things."

Kate rolled her eyes. "Are you going to help me?" Sock asked.

"In what way do you expect me to help?"

"You're an ameliarator! You can make his video amazing. I mean, it's an amazing video that's going to put him on the path to fame and fatality."

Kate thought about it briefly. "I'll help a nice young man make a lovely recording for a nice young lady."

That Saturday, Jonathan prepared to make his recording. "Okay, I think I'll set the camera up right here," Jonathan spoke to himself more so than either the demon or the invisible spirit.

"No, it would be better in the other corner," Kate murmured. "You'll have lovely light from the window instead of just the ceiling lamp."

Jonathan paused. "On second thought, the camera would be better over there," he said and moved it to precisely where Kate indicated.

"Right. Now… I'll just tune my guitar…"

Kate shook her head. "Change your clothes," she instructed.

"I really should change my clothes." Jonathan took off his hoodie and the t-shirt underneath. Kate's eye-brows practically rose off her face. Sock was better able to maintain his composure.

"You must be really nervous," Sock said to the teen. "You usually don't talk to yourself."

"Maybe I'm talking to you," Jonathan retorted. "And why shouldn't I be nervous?" He pulled on a sky-blue t-shirt that went well with his eyes. "I'm trying to make a nice gift for Lil and my personal demon could just fuck it all up."

"Oh, I won't do that," Sock assured him. "I want this to be the best video ever."

Jonathan glared at the demon, doubting his sincerity. He set up a chair. Kate adjusted the angle ever so slightly as Jonathan flipped through the song-book.

"Have you chosen the song yet?" Sock asked.

"I've narrowed it down to a couple," Jonathan answered still flipping.

"He's going to play I Wanna Hold Your Hand," Kate informed them. Jonathan stopped on the page.

Carefully, he tuned his guitar. He practiced the chords quickly, singing to himself quietly. He glanced up at his demon occasionally, but the usually annoying fellow was behaving himself.

"Press record and begin," Kate directed.

Jonathan took a deep breath. "I think I'm ready," he announced. He leaned over and pressed the record button. Jonathan looked into the camera. "Hey, Lil. This is for you." He smiled warmly.

"Teen heartthrob indeed," Sock thought to himself.

Jonathan took his seat. Kate was there, gently touching his back. "Nice posture, and confidence," she whispered.

Jonathan began to play. The tempo was up-beat and the acoustic guitar sounded surprisingly full in spite of the fact it was in a bedroom. Kate made sure the shot was neatly framed and the lighting made everything seem warm and cozy. When Jonathan began to sing, Sock was truly impressed. The young man was wearing his heart on his sleeve. How much of this was Kate's influence, Sock couldn't be sure.

"I wanna hold your ha-a-a-a-and, I wanna hold your hand," Kate found herself singing along. She looked over at Sock. Sock was fixated on Jonathan. Who could blame him? Jonathan was a lovely young man. Kate sat down softly beside her demon friend.

Sock felt an odd tingling sensation in his fingers and looked down at his hand. Kate's hand was resting so close to his that their fingers brushed. Taking the hint, Sock slid his hand over Kate's. Kate told herself not to read too much into it, but she couldn't deny a near electric sensation she felt.

The song concluded, and Sock burst into applause. Jonathan turned off the camera and let out a huge sigh of relief.


	11. Changing expectations

The winter festivities always left Fergus in a contemplative mood. He was eager to debate theology with Providence as he was every year.

"Why isn't there some evidence, some concrete reason to believe the afterlife exists? What is the point in hiding?" Fergus asked.

"Being outside of regular perception is not the same as hiding," Providence countered.

Fergus pressed, "Wouldn't God have made more of an impression on his followers if he were evidently real and obviously present?"

"That is a reasonable conjecture."

"Wouldn't Heaven want some sort of safe-guard in place so that the Bible or the Koran or whatever text wouldn't be altered or manipulated through politics or mistranslation?"

"That assumes our organization is beholden to a piece of text in the first place."

"Do you even want people to get into Heaven? You seem to enjoy being mysterious."

Providence chuckled. "I am but one representative for a –"

Fergus interrupted, "A multi-facetted association with many departments and subsidiaries. Yeah, yeah… I know."

Fergus re-started the debate, "Why would you have gullibility as the only criteria for redemption?"

Providence's forehead wrinkled. "I don't understand your question."

Fergus explained, "Most major religions – and most cults as well – maintain that salvation comes from faith; further surmising that non-believers are punished."

"And you think it should be otherwise," Providence said.

"I think it is bogus to conceal every hint of the supernatural from possible detection and put up an impressive smoke screen in the form of an elegant, unified, natural, and seemingly accurate explanation for everything. It is unjust to punish people because we didn't find a certain set of antiquated, perverse, and frankly unconvincing fables believable enough to discard reason and disregard everything we've come to know through rigorous scientific discovery." Fergus took a deep breath.

Providence nodded her head. "That does sound like a ridiculous policy," she said quietly.

Fergus was not done with his rant. "For the crime of not being child-like enough to believe improbable nonsense we are doomed to – wait what did you say?"

"I said, it sounds like a ridiculous policy."

"Does that mean it's not a policy?"

"I don't know Hell's criteria for admittance," Providence said sweetly.

* * *

For the mortals of Blacksheep High School, winter break was over. The school hallways were filled with students chatting about their Christmas gifts and New Year's resolutions. Joane the angel barreled like a line-backer down the hall, phasing through mortal teenagers, and crashed into her hapless victim.

"Jojo, what the hell?" Sock moaned. He staggered back to his feet and looked around. "I'm nowhere near Lil." The angel slapped his mouth. Sock corrected himself, "Sorry! Nancy! I'm nowhere near Nancy." Joane shrugged her shoulders. Sock bristled, "You said 15 feet. She's practically at the other end of the hall!"

Joane smirked. "Huh. I guess I'm just a poor judge of distance."

The angel turned and soared back to her hovering position above Magill Nancy. Sock shouted, "That does it!" and raced down the hall. He took Jojo by surprise, tackling her out of mid-air.

"Sock, get off me!" the angel demanded.

"Not until you tell me what's really going on," Sock insisted. "And don't tell me you're just doing your job. Nancy is in no danger from me and you know it."

Jojo rolled and Sock toppled over. He quickly pounced again, grabbing from behind and wrapping his arms around her tightly.

"Fine," the angel spat. "Jonathan is Lil's boyfriend now. His happiness affects her happiness. And what makes him happy is you getting beaten to a pulp." She managed to wiggle one arm loose and elbow Sock in the stomach.

Sock was not deterred. He flew in front of her and when she swung to punch his face he managed to grab her wrists. "I'm serious, Jojo. We used to be friends."

"You watched me die," the angel snarled. "You enjoyed watching me die."

"Well, I didn't enjoy you being dead!"

"What are you talking about?"

"Joane, I missed you!" Sock confessed. He repeated it, "I missed you. I really did. With you gone, Stabitha was my only friend." He sighed and let go of the angel.

"Stabitha?" Jojo said confused. Then she backed away. "Ugh! You named the knife."

Her look of scorn completely left Sock completed deflated.

* * *

Fergus was a bit surprised to see Joane the angel at the bird sanctuary on a Sunday morning. "Jojo!" he said as he sat down beside her in the tall, twisted oak tree.

"Fergus," she gave him a friendly nod, but then her eyes quickly returned to watching the falcons swoop through the air.

"What brings you here on a Sunday?" Fergus asked. "I thought today was your day off."

"It is my day off. That's why I'm here."

"Why aren't you in Heaven enjoying a bubble bath and eating chocolate bon-bons?" Fergus asked, half teasing.

"Is that what you think Heaven is?" Joane wrinkled her nose.

Fergus shrugged. "I was given the impression that it is a place of unending pleasure."

"Yeah, well, unending isn't the same as consistent or constant. And for angels it does end, 'cause we gotta go back to work."

"You don't like your job?"

"It's okay, I guess. Some days I'm able to influence her, give her advice. She sometimes doesn't do as I suggest – free will and all. Some days I don't even know what to suggest. Most days I doubt I'm even making a difference."

There was a quiet moment. The two spirits simply sat watching the feathered creatures move through the sky and dive for their prey.

"If I do a good job as a guardian angel, Providence says I get to choose my final fate."

"Sort of like a retirement bonus?" Fergus joked. Joane didn't seem to get it.

"I guess. I've decided I'm gonna be a falcon."

"Really? You'd rather reincarnate as a lesser species than go to Heaven?" Fergus rubbed at the stubble on his chin.

Joane lay on her back. "I'm not sure I could truly enjoy Heaven knowing that there are millions of people suffering for all eternity in Hell. I mean, I know there are people who deserve severe punishment… but an eternity of punishment? Is that even fair?"

"You're making the assumption that the after-life is fair," Fergus responded. "I've had this conversation with Providence before."

Joane pursed her lips, but said nothing.

Fergus added, "You are also assuming that a person's existence in Heaven or Hell is going to be eternal."

"Even if it isn't, there is something about the real world, the actual Earth… you know?"

"Reminds me of philosopher Robert Nozick," said Fergus.

"Oh." Joane returned her eyes to the bright blue sky. "I like the idea of flying through the air like a modern day pterodactyl and snatching up vermin with my talons."

Fergus asked, "What happens to you when the falcon version of you dies?"

"I hope I turn to dust and my life-energy is scattered through the cosmos like all the other animals." Joane sat up again. "Fergus? What animal would you want to come back as?"

"I'm not sure… I kinda liked being a human."

"When I was in guardian angel training, I heard about this one department that suggested a sort of soul-recycling program…"

"Recycling program?" Fergus raised an eye-brow.

"Yeah! You know, like with paper; shred old paper into tiny bits, get it wet, make a pulp, press it flat – new paper!"

"Ah, I get it. Or maybe it's like the water cycle, spend some time in the clouds, rain, collect in a puddle, evaporate back to the clouds."

Joane smiled. "Speaking of the water cycle, did you know some of the water that is in the clouds right now used to be dinosaur urine?"

Fergus smirked. "Never thought about it like that, but I suppose that makes sense."

"Isn't this planet amazing? Why would I want to spend time anywhere else?"

* * *

One day in early spring, Mephistopheles called Sock into his office. More accurately, he leaned back in his chair, snapped is fingers, and Sock appeared on the other side of the office door.

A curvaceous lady demon with straight black hair and lizard eyes greeted Sock, "Are you Napoleon Maxwell Sowachowski?"

Sock blinked at her. "I am. What am I doing here?"

She glanced at the papers on her clip board. "It says here you've been slow to meet quota."  
"Well, it's been hard…" Sock began.

The demon cut him off, "Let me give you some advice. When you're choosing your mark, you pick someone who thinks that they are a worthless, untalented burden on society. Then, you just agree with them. Easy."

Sock avoided looking at her. "I didn't choose Jonathan. He was assigned to me."

The black haired demon tossed her head and shrugged. "Well, then you just have to make sure he falls deliriously in love and then suffers a tragic loss. Nothing like heart-break to make someone do the irrational."

Sock drew small circles with the toe of his boot. "Thanks, I'll keep that in mind."

The door to the office opened. "Keep up the good work, Tom," Mephistopheles said to the squat demon as he showed him out the door. He turned to see who was next. "Sock, so glad you could come on short notice."

Sock followed his boss into the office.

"So, what do you think of my new secretary?" Mephistopheles asked as his returned to the chair behind his desk.

"Well, she's –"

"Not your type, I know. But, on to the reason I called you down here."

Sock spoke quickly. "I can explain! See, there is this guardian angel that keeps -"

Mephistopheles stiffened. "Guardian angel? Protecting your charge?"

"No, Jonathan's dating…"

"A human is dating an angel?"

"No, the angel is -"

"Never mind, kid. I don't care." The manager of Hell leaned forward. "I've been talking to some of the CEOs and they tell me that the way to increase productivity is to give employees the illusion of autonomy."

"Sooo, what does that mean?" asked Sock.

"For you, it means that you get to choose your next target."

"You mean, I won't be haunting Jonathan?"

"Oh-ho, you're still on the hook for Jonathan. But, since you seem in no hurry to get that task done, in addition you will be causing one suicide every two months for the humans of your choosing."

"How will I choose?"

"That's up to you! The joys of autonomy."

Sock pouted.

"You'll have access to our file system," Mephistopheles said with a grin and a wave towards the mountains of cabinets. "Your first official suicide is due next week. After that, two whole months to plan your next kill and keep chipping away at Jonny Boy's sanity." Mephistopheles stuck out his hand for Sock to shake.

Sock stood shook his boss's hand. As he walked out the door, he paused. "Wait… I thought you said you had no concept of time."

"That's what Lizella's for," Mephistopheles explained. "Now, off you go…unless you want to start searching the files right away."

"No, I'm fine. Thanks."

The demon lady gave him a side-ways wink. "Remember what I told ya," she cooed.


	12. Call Me Maxwell

It was a quiet Friday afternoon. Jonathan was lounging on the couch, about to give-up on watching TV because Sock was sitting on it and turning all the channels to snow. Kate popped in. "Sock!" she said excitedly.

The demon turned to face her. "What is it?"

Jonathan looked up, but the only person he could see was Sock. "Are you talking to yourself again?"

"No, I'm talking to Kate."

"Your imaginary girlfriend?" Jonathan teased.

"She's my very real … _ghost_ friend," Sock retorted.

"Yeah, and if you can't see me, that's your loss," Kate added, hovering inches from Jonathan's face.

"So, what brings you by?" Sock asked.

"I was wondering if you had plans for this evening," Kate said.

"Do I have plans for this evening?" Sock repeated.

"Yes, you do," said Jonathan. "They involve staying the hell away from me while I'm on my date."

"With Nancy?" Sock asked.

Jonathan groaned. "With Lil. Why can't you call her Lil?"

"Same reason I'm gonna stay the hell away from you on your date."

"Jojo," said Kate. "It's Jojo, right?"

Sock floated off the TV and over to a corner to talk with Kate. The TV snow ended and Jonathan began surfing for something to watch.

"I'd like to take you to a show at the community theater," Kate told Sock. "It's a musical. Usually, Fergus accompanies me, but I thought this show would be right up your alley. Wanna go?"

"What's the show?" Sock asked.

"Sweeny Todd," Kate beamed.

"Never heard of it."

"You have never heard of Sweeny Todd, the Demon Barber of Fleet Street?" Kate was surprised.

"Nope."

"Oh, then you gotta see it! I'll meet you in my room at 6:30." She started to vanish, then quickly reappeared. "Dress nice," she told him. Then she was gone.

* * *

Sock arrived at the home-office down the hall at 6:40. Mr. Combs was sitting at the desk, completely oblivious to either spirit or demon. Amelia Kate smiled when Sock floated through the door. She was not bothered by his lack of punctuality, nor the fact that he was wearing the same clothes he always wore.

Sock was taken aback by how different Kate appeared. Gone were her paint spattered sweatshirt and wide leg jeans. Instead, she wore a navy blue dress and a flowy grey cardigan. "Wow," Sock said. "You look pretty."

"Thanks," said Kate. "I wish I could say the same to you."

"How did you do that? Change clothes, I mean."

"Oh, I had a proper funeral. This is what I wore at my wake. I'm a lucky ghost; I get two outfits… plus mix-and-match options."

Sock looked down at his bizarre composition of attire. "I think I'm stuck with just this. Sorry I can't dress nicer."

"I thought you said you were a demon."

"I am. So what?"

"So, demons aren't stuck following ghost rules. Let me try something. Take off your skirt."

"Excuse me?"

"Just go with me on this, take off your skirt." Sock wiggled the lavender skirt off his hips and let it fall to the floor.

"Hold it above your head," Kate directed. Sock shrugged, picked up the skirt and held it high above his head. Kate took a deep breath in, bit her lip in concentration, then tugged on the hem of the skirt. The skirt grew longer, as if Kate were pulling down a window shade. Soon, all that could be seen of Sock was his hands at the top and his boots below the hem of a lavender curtain.

"Now give it a swish," Kate instructed.

"Like this?" Sock moved his hands, the curtain swayed then rapidly shrunk and reverted to the lavender skirt.

Kate clapped her hands delightedly. "I am an ameliorator!"

Sock sailed out of the bedroom to the bathroom. He hovered horizontally in front of the large mirror over the double sink, so he could see himself head to toe. He admired his modified wardrobe. His coral scarf had turned into a classic tie, his faded t-shirt and sweater vest had become a pale blue button up with yellow details. His jeans were dark and without holes. His hat remained un-changed. He slung his lavender skirt casually over his shoulder.

"When you look that good, I can't bring myself to call you Sock," Kate told him.

"Call me Maxwell, my dear Amelia."

Amelia Kate smiled. "Shall we go watch people get murdered while other people sing about it?"

"Is that what Sweeny Todd is about?"

"And uninformed cannibalism."

"You're the best friend ever."

* * *

When intermission came, Sock could not stop praising the show. He began to sing snippets of the songs. "We all deserve to die! Even you, Mrs. Lovett, even I. Because the lives of the wicked should be made brief; for the rest of us death will be a relief. We all deserve to die..."

"Do you agree with that?" Kate interrupted Sock's singing.

"Deserving to die? I dunno," Sock shrugged.

Kate spoke quickly, "Is Jonathan the only one you can haunt? Could you haunt someone else if you wanted?"

"Actually, my job description did change recently. Why do you ask?"

"What did it change to?"

"Uh…Six suicides a year, I choose the people." Sock tilted his head and narrowed his eyes. "Is there someone you'd like to recommend?"

Kate fiddled with her hands. "Maybe… I'm not sure. Intermission is almost over. We'll talk about it after the show."

"No, no. Don't back out now. Tell me who's on your kill list."

"One person. I don't have a kill list. The show-"

"They're performing more than one night. We can see the second half some other time. Right now you're going to introduce me to my next victim."

Sock and Kate stood in a small hospital room. An overweight, old man was propped up in the bed, reading over documents. The rolling desk was littered with papers, envelopes deftly torn by a letter opener, pencils, highlighters, and red and blue pens.

"So, this is the infamous Ex-Uncle Jeff," said Sock.

"Yes," confirmed Kate. "He doesn't run the company anymore, but he's still technically on the board."

"Well, I don't see why you need me. The guy looks like he's on his way out already."

"It's what he plans to do before he dies that irks me."

Sock raised his eyebrows. Kate explained, "He's changing his will."

A red-headed woman with a sharp chin walked through the two spirits and greeted the old man with a quick kiss. Kate grimaced. "That's Connie – at least that's what I call her, the woman who convinced him to change his will."

"What's wrong with changing a will?"

"Because if anyone deserves to inherit a small fortune from an estranged relative, it's my siblings and my cousins. She's convinced Ex-Uncle Jeff that she's the only one who loves him and that he should leave his wealth to her."

The old man began coughing and the various machines in the room beeped.

"Not yet, sweetheart, not yet!" the red-haired woman murmured.

"Augh, I'm sick of this shit," the old man bellowed. "Why can't this stupid heart just give out already?" He leaned back on the pillows. "Tomorrow," he said. "You promise! Tomorrow."

"Yes, dear," Connie said as she smoothed his grey hair off his forehead. She rolled the desk to the foot of the bed and helped the old man prepare for sleep.

"Fish-sticks!" Kate cursed. "I didn't think they'd be ready by tomorrow."

"What's tomorrow?" Sock asked.

"I call her Connie because she is a con-artist. He thinks she loves him, but, she's really dating some notary. So, tomorrow, she's agreed to help Jeff commit suicide right after he signs the changes to his will."

"And what do you expect me to do?"

"Expose Connie for the fraud that she is! Expose her before he signs the papers. When Ex-Uncle Jeff realizes that the love-of-his-life is a fake, he will be so distraught that he will give himself a fatal overdose without her help. Then, some deserving young people will be able to pay off their student loans."

Sock bit his lower lip.

"I'm sorry it is so last minute! I wish there was more time to help you plan."

Before Kate had finished her sentence, Sock was handing his cap to her. "Fix it. Angel of death fedora."

The ameliorator did her best. She shook the cap by the ear-flaps until she was holding the brim of a blood red fedora. Sock straightened his tie. He grinned and said, "Let's hope this works! Go find some strong pills."

He popped to the center of the room, and called out, "You're time has come!"

The old man sat bolt upright in bed and the red-headed woman looked up in amazement.

"Don't give him a heart attack!" Amelia Kate warned. Sock narrowed his eyes at her. She hurried off to find the drugs.

When Kate came back to the room, she found Sock floating above two dead bodies and blood stained bed-sheets. A bloody letter-opener fell out of Ex-Uncle Jeff's hand and clattered on the floor.

Sock spread his hands. "Well, the bad news is he didn't react quite like you predicted. The good news is that murder-suicide is still suicide, so quota met!"


	13. Angelic Adviser

Joane was perplexed. Jonathan and Lil were partners for a project in World Geography. They had been sitting on Lil's bed going over their research notes. Joane just couldn't wrap her head around what had happened. One minute the two teens were discussing the topography of China, the next they were kissing. And these weren't like the good-night kisses from their dates. These weren't even the Valentine's Day kisses with tongue. These kisses included necks and... noises. Joane bit her bottom lip. She turned her back, trying to give the teens the privacy they thought they had. Still, she could hear them. She pulled on her pig tails, first one, then the other, then both. She considered leaving. "No," she told herself, "You're a guardian angel. You need to stay and make sure they don't go too far." For a moment Joane puzzled over what was too far; would she know it when she saw it?

"The slippery slope towards Hell is greased with feelings of pleasure," she remembered Father Mackenzie saying. She also remembered firmly announcing that kissing was gross after Rose and Valery dared her to smooch Napoleon behind the oak tree in the corner of the playground. She had lied; his lips had been soft and smelled like strawberry chap-stick. However, no such lessons or warnings were provided in her guardian angel classes. Did Heaven really not care about such details, or was it something so basic and obvious that they didn't think it worth teaching? Jojo glanced over her shoulder. The teens were no longer sitting up, and Lil's hands had vanished under Jonathan's hoodie.

"Oh, shit!" Joane exclaimed. She clapped her hands over her mouth. She had to think fast. With great concentration, the angel knocked over the bed-side table.

Lil and Jonathan sat up quickly.

"Sock!" Jonathan shouted.

"What?" Lil hopped off the bed and unrumpled her dress. "Did you just say Sock?"

Jonathan swallowed. "It's nothing. Never mind. Let me help you pick up." Jonathan knelt on the floor and turned the table up right. Lil joined him on the floor. Picking up a small framed picture and checking to see if the glass had cracked.

"It's what you say whenever something goes wrong: sock," Lil stated. "Why is that?"

"I'd rather not talk about it," Jonathan replied. He put a small desk lamp back on the table and returned the plug to the outlet.

Joane directed, "Make him talk about it."

Lil shrugged. "Okay," she said as she picked up the textbook from the floor. "Let's get back to our Geography project."

Joane heaved a sigh. It had been so simple to get the two of them together. What would it take to get that stupid boy to admit to having an even stupider demon?

"Why so glum, sugar plum?" said an unfamiliar voice beside her.

Joane turned to see a tall man with bright orange hair wearing a crisp white suit. "Who are you?" she asked.

"Think of me as your angelic adviser," the man answered with a charming grin. "Having trouble with your charge?"

"Sorta, I guess. What are angels supposed to do when their humans… you know."

"Have sex?"

Joane nodded.

The man shrugged. "Me, I'd just sit back and watch the show. Maybe polish the ol' halo, if you get my drift."

Joane felt a bit of vomit in her mouth hearing the way her angelic adviser said it.

The man in white put his arm about her shoulder. "That's not what's really bugging you, though. C'mon, I can't advise if you don't open up."

"Did Providence send you?" Joane inquired.

"Providence and I converse frequently," the man answered.

Joane stated, "What's bothering me is Sock, a demon."

"Tormenting Magill, is he?"

"No. He's tormenting Lil's boyfriend. And that's not even the main issue. I beat him up every time I see him. But it isn't enough. Before he died and became a demon, like years ago, it was Sock that killed me."

"Really now? Your file says accidental death."

Joane rolled her eyes. "Whatever. It's Napoleon Maxwell Sowachowski's fault that I died and he oughta pay."

"And frequent pummelings isn't enough?" the man scratched at his orange mutton chops. "What is it you want?"

"I want Jonathan to spill his guts."

"Literally? I thought that was Sock's job."

"Not literally!" Joane snapped. "I want Jonathan to tell Lil that he has a demon."

"Why? What good will that do?"

"Because then Lil will want to help him get rid of it. Then, Sock will finally be in Hell permanently, as he deserves."

"Your girl is a trained exorcist skills, is she?" The tall man sat up a little straighter.

"Not exactly," Joane admitted.

"Well, you wouldn't want an amateur messing with that sort of thing. Open a window to shoo a fly and let in a hornet, as the saying goes."

"I've never heard such a saying," Joane replied. Yet, she had to admit that it was decent advice. She felt a bit guilty for initially doubting the man in white. "Well, since your my angelic adviser," Joane said, "Help me come up with a plan B."

A large grin spread across the man's face. "Well, demons are only Earth-bound if they have a haunting job."

"I know. Sock is haunting Jonathan, technically. I think he actually has a crush on him."

The man continued, "And what do you think happens to demons who fail at their jobs?"

Joane pondered.

"C'mon, c'mon. It's not that difficult a question! What happens in life?"

Joane answered, "If you fail to do your job, you'd get fired." He eyes lit up, "Oh! That is excellent. A terrible pun, but excellent."

"It isn't a pun," the self-proclaimed angelic adviser began to say.

Joane spoke over him, "If Sock fails at his job, he gets sent into the fiery pit of Hell. Now, how do I get him to fail? What exactly is his job?"

The man with the orange hair answered, "Sock is contracted to haunt Jonathan Combs until such time as Jonathan kills himself. If Jonathan dies by reason other than his own actions, then Sock will have failed."

Joane glanced over at Lil and Jonathan. The two teens were dutifully making a poster-board presentation. "I don't like the idea of killing an innocent guy," Joane said.

The man in white shrugged. "Well, plan A isn't completely ruled out. It's all a matter of how patient you can be. Considering Lil has all her occult-fighting stuff carefully hidden in her closet, I doubt she's in any hurry to tell her boyfriend."

Joane shook her head. "I don't get it! How can she be so… intimate… and yet so secretive?"

"Oh, you angelic child, it is easier done than said."


	14. Prom Date

It was nearly noon on Saturday. Jonathan munched on a half of an apple as he watched an egg fry in bacon fat. The bacon, cooked to perfection, sat next to a thick slice of cheddar cheese and a thin slice of green apple. Kate danced about the kitchen as her boom box played a shuffled mix of classic rock, American alternative, and 80s chart toppers. She adjusted the stove knobs. Jonathan nodded his head along to the music, occasionally singing along with the chorus.

Sock came bursting into the kitchen, his red pilot's cap in his hand. He beamed with pride. "There's something different about me," he announced.

"Really now?" said Jonathan. The twerpy demon looked the same as always, baggy sweater vest and all.

"I have horns!" Sock pulled back his bangs to better display two small nubs. They looked like the growths on a baby goat. He leaned his head towards Jonathan. "Touch 'em!"

"Dude, my hand'll go right through you."

"You could touch me if you really wanted to…. Touch 'em! Touch 'em! Touch 'em!"

"Ask Kate to touch 'em if you want it so bad," Jonathan said and returned his full attention to assembling the sandwich between a two halves of a toasted croissant.

Sock floated over to Amelia Kate. "Touch 'em! Touch 'em! Touch 'em!"

Kate smiled and ran her thumbs over the demon's little horns. "Very nice. Let me know when you start growing a tail."

Suddenly, Jonathan spoke with his mouth full. "Ohmagud! Thi," he chewed and swallowed. "Kate, this is the best sandwich – heck! The best _thing_ I have ever tasted!"

Sock frowned. "Since when do you talk to Kate? Wait a minute…" Sock looked around the kitchen. A 5-disc CD player sat in the corner and the cookbook on the counter had a library sticker on it. "Before I got here, were you two… hanging out?"

"Jealous?" Kate asked with a peevish grin.

"Jealous? Of you? Hardly," Sock scoffed. "Why would I want to hang out with Jonathan? I'm supposed to get him to kill himself."

Jonathan swallowed another savory bite. "Well, Sock, today is not your day. Because a sandwich like this makes life worth living!"

Sock started floating on his back and crossed his legs. "Oh, Jonathan, your suicide is so low on my priority list. Besides, I have two whole months before another death is due. Mephistopheles loved Ex-Uncle Jeff, by the way."

Kate gave a small smile. Jonathan finished eating and went to wash dishes.

Sock continued, "He loved it so much, he's encouraging me to do another murder-suicide. I've already got some great ideas."

Jonathan made a wry face. "Do I dare ask?"

"I've been seeing prom posters around the school. I'm thinking I could go all "Carrie" on it." Sock turned to his ghost friend. "Whadaya think, Kate? Wanna help me crash prom?"

"You want me to go with you to prom?" Kate asked, her voice an octave higher than usual.

"Sure, you helped me with the last kill. It'll be great. I think we could learn demonic possession if we get an exorcism book from the library and reverse-engineer it."

All Amelia Kate heard was a cute boy asking her to a fancy dance. "Of course I'll be your date to the prom."

* * *

"Who's joining me dress shopping this weekend?" Rita asked the usual lunch bunch on Friday.

Judith answered, "I have $25 bucks and my Fab Fabrics employee discount."

"Thrift store, here we come!" Rita put her hand up and received a high-five from Judith.

"Lil, you wanna get in on this? My employee discount is20%."

Lil shrugged. "Sure. Sounds fun." She glanced at Jonathan, and then back down at her food.

"I figure shopping this weekend, tailoring and decorating next weekend. Then we won't feel rushed," Judith explained.

"Gentlemen?" Rita turned to Zack and Jonathan.

"I'm gonna get a rental," Zack responded. "Just let me know what color you get, 'cause I wanna get the tie and vest to match."

"Classy," said Judith. "Jonathan, I suppose you want to do the same?"

Jonathan mumbled something incoherent.

"What was that, Jonathan? We didn't quite catch it," Lil quipped.

Jonathan took a big bite of his sandwich.

Lil continued in an irritated tone, "Because we are _all_ very curious about your prom plans."

Jonathan swallowed and immediately took another bite.

Rita tilted her head. "Are you sayin' he hasn't asked you yet?"

Lil felt her finger nails digging into her palms. She gave her head a little shake.

Judith tried to break the growing tension. "Jeez, Jon, don't leave a girl in suspense."

Jonathan swallowed. "I said I'm not going."

Lil clenched her teeth together. She quickly picked up her lunch tray and left the table.

"What is wrong with you?" Judith hissed.

Zack jumped in, "Jude, lay off. He doesn't want to go, he doesn't have to."

"If he wants to keep his girlfriend, he does," said Rita.

Judith's eyes grew wide. "Are you breaking up with Lil?"

"No," Jonathan answered flatly. "I just don't want to go to prom."

The bell gave him a much needed excuse to leave the conversation.

Sock sprang out of Jonathan's locker and put his arm around the disgruntled teen. "Told ya things would be easier if ya just asked her to prom."

"With what you have planned, no way."

* * *

The school day was over. Jonathan flopped on his bed and turned his music up loud. Sock busily read a book on exorcism, jotting down notes on a note pad and often shouting, "How interesting!" as he glanced over to Jonathan, who was deliberately ignoring him. Suddenly, Sock was in an angel's choke-hold.

"Jonathan refuses to ask Lil to the prom. Tell me why!" Jojo barked.

"Because he knows I'm planning something."

"Doesn't he know I'll kick the crap out of you?"

"Oh, you won't be able to on that day!" Sock squirmed out of her arms.

"Don't tell me… Is it some blood-moon-solstice-equinox-crap?"

"Indeed it is!" Sock let out a villainous chuckle. He dodged Jojo's punches. Jojo lunged towards Sock. "You know I'll just pound you all the harder the next day."

His bobbing and weaving about the room caught the teen boy's attention. Sock shouted, "Bring it on! The glory shall outlast the pain!"

"Are you fighting Jojo?" Jonathan asked.

"Yes!" Sock answered.

"Does that mean Lil's coming?"

The sound of angry knocking on the front door answered that question. Jonathan took a deep breath. He heard his mother answer the door, followed by a muffled conversation and the sound of heavy footsteps on the stairs.

"Well, I'll be going now," said Sock. "Gotta mind that 15 feet rule."

Jojo grabbed him by his shirt collar. "You're not going anywhere. I want you here when Jonathan confesses your existence."

Magill Nancy rapped on the bedroom door. Jonathan opened it slowly.

"Jonathan, what the hell?"

"Hello to you, too," the stoic teen responded.

Lil stomped into the room. "You seemed cool with going to prom two weeks ago. What changed?"

"I have this…feeling that something bad is gonna happen," Jonathan said.

"Like what?"

"I dunno! Just bad!"

Lil scoffed, "Fine! I'm going to the prom whether you join me or not. So, I'm going to give you thirty seconds to reconsider, or I'm going to ask someone else to be my date."

Sock spoke up. "I can still wreck prom without you there. I don't need to possess you to make my plan work. In fact, my plan might go even better if I possess Miss Nancy."

"Don't you dare!" Jonathan bellowed at the snarky demon.

"Don't yell at me!" Lil retorted.

"I wasn't yelling at you," Jonathan said in a softer tone.

"Well, there's no one else in the room."

Sock laughed hardily at her comment. He continued to snigger, even as Jojo kicked him in the shins.

Jonathan pinched the bridge of his nose. "Okay, I'm gonna tell you something, and you probably won't believe me, but whatever. I have a demon that haunts me and he's threatening to do some shit I don't even want to imagine at prom. He's the one I was yelling at."

Magill Nancy's face grew hard. "That's not funny," she said.

Jonathan threw up his hands. "I wasn't trying to be funny."

"Bullshit, Zack told you, didn't he? Rita told him, and Zack told you."

Jonathan shook his head in confusion. "I don't understand you. Told me what?"

The girl exhaled slowly. "Okay, let's pretend for a moment that I believe you."

The blonde teen looked up, cautiously. "You believe me?"

Lil twisted her fingers together nervously. "You swear this isn't a prank?"

"It's not a prank. What are you so paranoid about? I'm the one with a crazy story about a demon."

Jojo grinned and thumped Sock with her elbow. "Wait'll you hear this!"

"My uncle and my grandfather are demon hunters in Mexico."

Jonathan's arms fell limp. "You're shitting me."

Lil paced the room with wide steps. "So, if you want to prevent your personal demon from ruining prom, I can think of no better date than me."

Jonathan turned his head and sneered at the little demon. "Well, Sock, you got what you wanted. I'm going to prom."


	15. Searching for Something Suitable

"Arg! Two-weeks-worth of planning right down the drain!" Sock groaned.

"Well, you're looking for a new target now," Kate said soothingly. The ghost did not mind the file room in Hell. It seemed neatly organized, but by what method she could not tell.

"I found a few I think will work," Kate called up to Sock. He was hovering several feet above her, looking in another drawer.

"Great. So did I," Sock called back.

"And maybe at prom, you could use your demon powers for something less dramatic."

"Like what?" Sock pulled open another file drawer.

"Like, I don't know… spiking the punch," Kate suggested.

"Stupid Magill Nancy's probably gonna spike the punch with holy water."

"Well, maybe you could do something actually good."

"Good? Yeah, right. Maybe I should possess the DJ and make sure he plays descent music."

Kate smiled. "Not a bad idea." Perhaps her personal mission wasn't as futile as Fergus thought. Maybe she could free Sock from his demonic career. She would certainly try, including going through Hell to do it.

Unexpectedly, the door crashed open. A hulking demon lumbered into the room. "Uh, hey … Garth," Sock greeted him. "It's Garth, right?"

"Shut-up, Chowski. I'm here for the ghost." The large demon locked his beady eyes on Kate. Kate wished she was invisible. The brute sauntered towards her. "Rumor has it, that your girly makes you feel tangible."

Sock didn't answer. Garth continued, "And that you've tricked her into coming down here for us to share."

Sock quickly placed himself between Kate and the looming demon.

"Don't touch her," Sock snarled.

Garth gave an amused snort. "You can't keep a treasure like that to yourself. I haven't had a decent blowjob in years." He leered over Sock's shoulder at the petrified ghost. "I bet she tastes like cold beer."

"Well, you're not going to find out," Sock said flatly, his face mere inches from Garth's ugly mug.

Garth smiled smugly before taking the lanky demon by the shoulders and tossing him to the side. Kate cowered, clinging the files to her chest. He smelled of sulfur, which made her stomach churn.

"Oh, don't look at me that way, girl," Garth said. He undid his belt as he spoke. "I guarantee that I am much more satisfying than that swizzle-stick." He jerked his head towards where Sock had landed. However, Sock was not there.

Sock leapt out of nowhere and onto Garth's back. He put one skinny arm around the vile demon's neck and the other arm flailed wildly with his trusty knife. The hulking brute thrashed and managed to buck the little one off, but not before the knife sunk into his fleshy neck. Sock came flying back towards him, retrieving the knife and stabbing at those lecherous eyes. Garth stumbled backwards, falling over the open file drawer. Kate quickly shifted out of the way.

"Let's get out of here," Sock said to his friend. He took her hand and they zoomed back to the Earthly plane.

When Sock brought Kate to her room, she finally let go of his hand. She numbly opened the short file cabinet and stashed the set of hell-files behind Mr. Combs' work files. Sock felt like he should say something, but no words seemed quite right. Kate turned towards Sock and wrapped her arms around him; she buried her face in his shoulder. Sock returned the embrace, hoping she wouldn't start crying.

Kate lifted her head slightly to speak. "You smell really nice for a demon," she said. She snuffled a bit and re-buried her face.

Sock replied, "You smell nice, too." He kissed her forehead gently.

In response, Kate kissed his cheek. "Thanks for protecting me."

"I am so, so sorry I even asked you to go with me. I never –"

He stopped speaking when Kate kissed the corner of his mouth. "Thanks for protecting me," Kate repeated.

Sock answered, "Thanks for joining me in Hell."

* * *

Fergus heaved a sigh of boredom as he sat atop a rack of jeans. "I thought you wanted me to keep you company during a dull shopping trip," he said to Jojo.

The angel looked up from a price tag on a garish green dress. "I did."

"But now I'm alone. I mean, the people-watching is okay, but …"

"I'm sorry. I just didn't realize that thrift-store shopping would be so much like a treasure hunt."

Amelia Kate shouted out, "That dress is a bottle of dye away from fabulous!"

Judith spun around cheerfully in a neon pink cocktail dress. "Fits perfectly! Just envision it in purple," she said to her friends.

Rita and Lil nodded in agreement. "This one is in the maybe pile," Rita said. "How good at you at hemming taffeta? Is this even taffeta?"

Judith shrugged. "If you can't even tell what it's made of, it should be in the no pile."

"You said if I found something poufy enough, you could add in hidden pockets," Lil reminded Judith. "Is this poufy enough?"

Rita and Judith suppressed their laughter. All three invisibles simply guffawed. Lil returned to the dressing room.

Kate gave a wistful sigh.

"Why are you sighing?" Fergus asked. "I thought you loved this stuff."

"Oh, I'm not sighing out of boredom. I'm just… wishing, maybe a bit of regretting."

"Regretting what?" Joane asked.

"That I wasn't stuck in my ghost clothes. That, when Sock and I go to prom, I could wear a pretty dress."

"You're going to prom… with Sock? The demon?" Jojo's voice squeaked.

"Is it going to be anything like you're last date?" Fergus asked.

"What do you mean?" Kate countered.

"Ending with inciting suicide?" Fergus teased. "Don't look so surprised, Kate. That little demon has been telling his how-I-got-my-horns story to anyone who will listen."

"You're helping him kill people?" Joane rose off the ground, nearly crashing the ceiling.

"There won't be anything like that at the prom. Jonathan and Nancy are watching out. Ever since Sock learned Nancy knew about demonology, he's been changing his plans."

"That doesn't mean no one will die. That just means he'll be extra sneaky. Trust me, I know Napoleon Sowachowski."

Kate shook her head vigorously. "You knew him when he was like ten."

"Yeah, and do you know what that twisted puke-face used to do? He would feed Nyquil soaked bread crumbs to squirrels and then slice them open with a kitchen knife. Yeah, that kid's hobby was to take the most skittish creatures on the planet, lull them into a false sense of security, and then stab them. You're dating a squirrel stabber."

"People can change."

"Maybe he was offered his demonary position for a reason, Kate," Fergus said quietly.

The girly ghost blinked several times. "I hope Nancy finds a suitably poufy dress," she said and disappeared.

* * *

Kate lay back on the bed in Jonathan's room. She was wearing her wide leg jeans and her grey cardigan wrapped loosely and held shut with two safety pins. Her eyes were closed and her hands were clasped, resting on her belly. She had a small smile on her lips. Her thoughts were interrupted by a friendly voice.

"Kate," Sock said. "I've been looking all over for you." He tilted his head and asked, "What are you doing?"

"I was daydreaming," Kate answered.

"About what?"

"I'd rather not say," she replied. She sat up and looked at the young demon.

"Aww, c'mon! We're friends. You can tell me your daydreams. Who would I tell?" Sock gave a friendly grin and leaned towards her to hear her secret.

"You could tell Jonathan," Kate pointed out.

"Yeah, like Jonathan cares about the day dreams of my ghost friend."

Kate frowned. Sock pressed, "Please? I promise not to laugh."

She gave in. "I was day dreaming that someone would open up my sweater and really like what they saw underneath."

"Why? What's underneath?" Sock asked.

Kate glowered at him. "My boobs, Sock," she said in an irritated tone. She raised her voice slightly, "Underneath this sweater is a lacy bra holding large boobs." She looked away, embarrassed by her outburst.

Sock leaned back. "Woah, why are you so mad?"

"Because you reminded me that it my day-dream is just a stupid fantasy. It didn't happen in real life, and it certainly isn't about to happen in my after-life." She looked like she might cry. "The one guy that can actually touch me isn't even interested."

"In boobs? Are you saying I'm not interested in boobs?" Sock was slightly offended. Kate just gave him a look. "What makes you think I'm not interested in boobs?" Sock demanded.

Kate rolled her eyes. "Well, your choice in wardrobe certainly leaves your sexual preferences open to interpretation."

Sock looked down at his garb. He had no retort and stuttered, "My – I – well, I – well -" Finally he spat out, "I forgot why I was looking for you in the first place." He turned on his heels and was gone.


	16. Nothing Permanent

The high school gym had been beautified with a mirror-ball, table cloths, and as much crepe-paper as the prom-committee's budget could afford. The dance was half-over and nothing impressive had happened. Jonathan tried to enjoy himself, but it was a little hard when Lil was requesting a demon-update every three songs. Sock had been dancing, feeling cool in his red suit with star-shaped buttons. He even obliged Amelia Kate with a couple of slow songs. Kate was on cloud nine, in spite of wearing the same navy blue dress she wore to the theater. Jojo just rolled her eyes each time the girly ghost glanced at her. The angel was still in her cut-off jeans and plaid flannel.

A chubby boy in an old-fashioned tailcoat jacket approached the DJ. As the current slow dance song ended, the boy strolled to the center of the dance floor. Sock bit his lip. "Time to be the DJ," he whispered to Kate.

"May I have your attention, please!" the boy in the tailcoat jacket shouted. A heavy metal song came blasting out of the speakers at an ear-drum damaging volume. The young man opened his fancy jacket and pulled a gun from each hip. He began to fire haphazardly into the crowd. The music drowned out the sound of gunfire, but there were sprays of red. Everyone began running for the door or dashing behind tables. Lil quickly looked to Jonathan. He glanced around, but could not see Sock. Jonathan had no doubt that the gunman was possessed by the homicidal demon. He nodded to his partner.

Joane shook her head in disbelief. She knew the only weapon Sock was wielding was that raucous music. "Neutralizing this chump will be easy," she thought and flew towards the boy with the guns. She gave him a severe cramp in his left hand, and jammed the gun in his right. The boy panicked, dropped both guns and ran through the double doors. Jonathan and Lil ran in pursuit. As the three teens raced down the corridor, the angel shouted at the lazy security guards giving breathalyzer tests.

"Call for back up! Call an ambulance! Someone in authority follow these kids!"

The boy in the tail coat stopped at a locker and began fidgeting with the lock. Lil and Jonathan caught up to him. "Turn and face me," Lil ordered. The boy continued to turn the dial. "Step away from that locker," Lil commanded.

"Why? It's my locker," he responded.

"Hey, I know you," said Jonathan. "You're that junior from our honors chem class."

"Yeah, that's how everyone knows me. That junior in honors chem. That freshman in AP geometry. That middle schooler in high school algebra. Bet you don't even know my name," he punctuated his words with a loud lifting of the locker handle and slamming the door open.

"Sure I do. It's Collin… Collin Rigby."

"Whatever," the kid said quietly.

* * *

Sock hovered from victim to victim, but something wasn't right. The blood wasn't flowing, wasn't pooling as it should. "Did Hollywood lie to me?" he asked aloud.

"You guys," a boy shouted over the sobs and murmurs. "It's paint. Red paint."

"What a stupid prank!" called out a girl in a yellow dress. "My dress is completely ruined!"

"I'm not getting money back on this rental," said another boy as he stood up and stared at his stained cummerbund.

Kate floated over to Sock, grinning gleefully. Sock frowned. "Did you do this? Switch out the guns?"

"Isn't it so much better?" Kate gave a little twirl. "A momentary sense of terror, followed by relief and a renewed thrill for life."

"I wanted there to be death and destruction!"

"Well, you get hundreds of dollars worth of damage."

"And what about the bomb?" Sock asked. "Is it just filled with confetti or something?"

"There's a bomb?" Kate's eyes grew wide.

Sock looked around wildly, then rushed out of the room.

As the rest of the teenagers came out from behind tables and checked themselves for paint splatter, the DJ struggled to think of something clever to play. Kate sighed and whispered, "Pumped up kicks."

* * *

Sock found himself summoned to a locker bay. He raised his eye-brows at Jonathan.

"Can you see the demon?" Lil asked. "Has he left Collin's body?"

"There is no demon in me!" Collin cried. "I just decided that if I was gonna go out, I might as well go out with a bang. Maybe then I'll be remembered for something more than being the little kid taking big kid classes."

The officer at the far end of the hall called to them once again.

"Uh, Lil? Maybe we should do as the officer says. I mean, Collin here does have a bomb."

Lil answered, "You said I have a guardian angel. I'll be fine, she can protect me."

Joane sputtered, "Not when you're standing two feet away from a bomb! Listen to reason! Damn it, I wish you could hear me."

Jonathan said in a low voice, "I can see Sock, but I'm not sure he…"

Lil held her palms up towards Collin Rigby and shouted, "Napoleon Sowachowski, I command thee, Demon, release this boy!"

Collin lifted his fist high in the air. "I warned you," he said as he pushed the button.

* * *

"What happened?" Lil asked, her eyes still closed. "Did I go unconscious? How long was I out?"

"Technically, you're still unconscious," Joane answered. "The guys in the ambulance aren't sure you're gonna make it to the hospital."

Lil thrust her eyes open. She found herself hovering at one end of a long hallway, the messy locker bay was at the other. She looked to see who was talking to her. Hovering beside her was a pancake-chested blonde girl. Above her head was a golden circle, and on her back were small white wings. "Are you an angel?"

"Yep. The name is Jojo." The angel stuck out her hand for a shake.

"My guardian angel?" Lil narrowed her eyes.

"Uh… yes," Jojo responded, drawing back her hand.

"Well, you suck at your job," Lil said, folding her arms. "I thought my angel would be able to protect me from demons."

"That wasn't a demon. That was a messed-up teenager with a bomb, and you were standing two feet away. I shielded you the best I could."

The scene around them was fading, turning pale, then white.

"Am I dying? Is my ghost outfit going to be this prom dress? Ugh! This bra is made for sexiness, not long term wear! Could you help me loosen it or something?"

Jojo said nothing. She calmly pulled down the zipper of the dress about half-way.

"So what happens to a guardian angel when their guardee dies? Do you get a demotion or something?"

"Providence isn't going to demote me just because my charge did something ridiculously stupid of her own free will," Jojo fumed. "And besides, you aren't officially dead. You're having a near-death experience."

"What about Jonathan? Is he having a near-death experience, too?"

"No. He was shielded from the blast by … someone more powerful than me."

"So… what now? Just wait?"

Jojo shrugged. "I guess so. I've been told you learn more in your first year of guarding than you ever learn at the academy. This is new for me too."

Lil frowned. She reached up and snatched the halo from her guardian angel's head.

"Hey! Give that back!"

"You want it back?" Lil tossed the halo like a Frisbee. "Go fetch!" she shouted as it sailed.

Joane scowled, then took off flying after her halo that had disappeared from view.

When she found it, the golden ring of light was being twirled around Providence's finger. Providence gave a tight-lipped smile to the young angel. "I thought this might be yours. How ever did you lose it?"

"You should know, you're all-knowing," Joane mumbled.

Providence was very quiet. She stopped twirling the halo and held it. "What I'm wondering now is whether or not you deserve to get it back."

"It's not my fault! She has free will. I did my whole conscience-voice and everything, but she wasn't listening!"

"And what made her think she should take on a boy like Collin Rigby?"

"She thought he was possessed by a demon and that I would protect her. She got all these demon hunting tips from her uncle. Like I said, not my fault!"

"What made her think there was a demon to fight?"

"Her boyfriend Jonathan said so."

"And why is Jonathan her boyfriend?"

"Uh, because he likes her? He thinks she's sexy?" Joane didn't like the patronizing tone Providence was using.

"You, Jojo. You convinced her to befriend him. You chose Magill Nancy with one goal: get close to Sock."

Jojo opened her mouth to protest, but she had no defense. Providence saw right through her. She looked down at her feet. "So, it is my fault," she said meekly.

* * *

Kate sat atop the reception desk at the hospital, swinging her legs back and forth. Sock sat next to her, feeling rather unwelcome anywhere else.

"Why did you rescue Jonathan?" Kate asked. "I thought your job was to make him die. Not that I wanted him to die; I'm glad you saved him, but why?"

"That's something I'd like to know, too," said a long limbed, orange-haired gentleman appearing in the doorway.

"Mephistopheles!" Sock said in surprise. "I uh… well, Jonathan has to do more than die. He has to kill himself, right? You said it he had to punch his own ticket."

Mephistopheles strolled up and leaned on the reception desk. "A person with zero training in such matters goes chasing down a teenager that, for all he knows, just shot up a high-school prom. His reason being he suspects the gun-slinging teen might be possessed by a demon. That sounds pretty darn suicidal to me. Even your pal Fergus couldn't poke holes in that argument."

Sock looked down at his lap and shrugged.

"You wanna know what I think?" Mephistopheles asked.

"You're gonna tell me anyway," Sock responded.

"I think you didn't want Jonathan to die."

Sock looked away and leaned back on his hands. "Well, I made my quota. No need to overdo it, you know?"

"Stop talking like that!" Kate rose off the desk slightly.

"Like what?" Sock asked.

"Like it's no big deal. Like you didn't shield one person from shrapnel while witnessing another human being splatter his guts across a locker bay. Like you don't want Jonathan to be your friend."

"Kate! Don't say that! Not in front of Mephistopheles."

Mephistopheles smirked. "You told me to expect mayhem. The paint ball guns were unimpressive."

"They were real guns! You know they were real guns!" Sock protested.

Kate grew more agitated. "Don't act like you aren't secretly relieved that I switched out the real guns for paint."

Sock leapt off the desk. The two spirits floated in mid-air, glowering at each other. "I'm not relieved. You think I enjoy the fact that I suck at my job? The one day an angel can't lay a hand on me, my plans still get foiled? I'm a joke! A joke! Why would you do that to me?"

"Because you don't belong in Hell."

"I'm a freaking demon!"

"No, you're not!" Kate fired back.

"What do you mean? I've got horns. I just grew a tail." He swished it around for emphasis. "How am I not a demon?"

Kate grew quiet. "I mean you accepted the job, but it's nothing permanent."

Sock leaned in. "What if I want it to be?"

"Stop talking like that!" Kate responded and disappeared.

Mephistopheles nodded his head, satisfied. "Just keep doing what you're doing, kid. And don't worry about the ameliorator. Girls like that will always forgive guys like us."


	17. Broken

It was not long after Jonathan had confessed the existence of Sock and Lil admitted to being an aspiring amateur demon hunter that the two decided to demon-proof some of Jonathan's more prized possessions. Lil had brought with her indelible ink, a small carving tool, and a book of protection symbols for reference. Joane smiled at Sock wickedly as the two teens began carefully etching circles onto Jonathan's keyboard and flute case.

"Did it ever occur to you to just throw his instruments out the window?" the angel teased. "You really do suck at your job if you didn't even think of that."

"Of course I thought of it!" Sock snapped. He hadn't considered it very long, though. Sock loved to hear Jonathan play. Of course, he'd cause a string to break or tear up sheet music every so often, just so Jonathan wouldn't get the wrong impression.

Jojo tossed her head. "Well, you're not gonna be able to now."

"Okay, Sock," Jonathan called. "I wanna see if the symbol works. Come over here and touch it."

"No," Sock said firmly.

"Napoleon Sowachowski, I command thee!" Lil bellowed.

"Noooo," Sock whined, but was compelled to do so. He held his hand over the keyboard. He snatched it back and held it close to his chest.

"Did it work?" Lil asked Jonathan.

"I heard his flesh hiss. Like that one experiment in chem class."

"Great!" Lil gently set the flute case aside. "On to the violin and guitar."

"Well, maybe not the guitar," Jonathan said.

"Why not?"

"Kate likes to play it sometimes, I'm not sure what effect the protection symbol would have on her."

"Who's Kate?" Lil asked, narrowing her eyes.

"She's a ghost that haunts this house sometimes. She used to live here, I think."

"What's she look like?"

Jonathan shrugged. "I don't know. I can't see her."

"Well, I'm sure this ghost would understand your need to protect your guitar."

"All the same, I'd rather leave it off… Sock won't hurt the guitar." The teen musician turned to his demon. "Right, Sock? You wouldn't do that to Amelia Kate."

* * *

Two weeks after prom and the bomb, Jonathan's hand was still wrapped in bandages, Lil wasn't even out of the hospital, and Kate was nowhere to be found. Sock was alone in Jonathan's bedroom, glancing around at all the un-played instruments.

"So, you're back to the death-by-overdose plan, I see," said a strangely smooth voice with a New Jersey accent.

Sock straightened quickly and whirled around to face his boss. "Mephistopheles! I… I haven't seen you in a while."

"Oh, I'm always around, you know, keepin' tabs."

"Right, well… what do you mean a death-by-overdose plan?" Sock asked.

"Your long-term plans for Jonathan. You still intend to do him in, right?" Mephistopheles seemed more interested in his cuticles than Sock or Jonathan. "I'm just complimenting you on your plans to get him addicted to opioids. A very popular way to ruin a life and die, currently."

Sock gave a hesitant chuckle. If Jonathan was on a path to addiction, Sock didn't feel he could take credit for it. His taunting and pestering of the college-bound teen had become half-hearted at best.

"Well, off to check on my other demons. Nice to see you taking the job seriously – all those lame pranks and pestering had me worried. Keep it up!" Mephistopheles glided through the closed door and out of sight.

The little demon sighed and brushed his hand across the keyboard keys, wincing at his fingertips were singed and smiling at the multitude of memories. Then he glared at the unprotected guitar.

"You wouldn't do that to Amelia Kate," Sock mimicked Jonathan's voice. "You wouldn't hurt her like that. You're not a real demon. Yeah? Well! You're wrong!"  
Sock snatched up the guitar. He lifted it high above his head and then smashed it to the floor.  
"Take that Amelia Kate! And Jonathan! And Miss Nancy! And Jojo!" He jumped up and down on the cracked body of the guitar.  
"Stupid ameliorator! Yeah, try to make this better." He took the neck of the guitar in two hands and did his best to snap it in half.  
"Ruining my big night then leaving without even saying good bye." He struggled, but the guitar neck did not break.  
"Well, you can just ascend into Heaven for all I care!" Sock yelled and threw the maimed guitar at the window. It made a strange noise as it bounced off the window pane.


End file.
